


Frozen Fire

by procrastinatingprincess



Series: In Your Heart Shall Burn [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inquisitor Backstory, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV Inquisitor, PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Torture, agnst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinatingprincess/pseuds/procrastinatingprincess
Summary: After everything that happened through his life, Cullen Rutherford shouldn’t have been shocked when the sky ripped open and demons fell from the heavens. Andraste preserve him, the world was falling to pieces around him, and he couldn’t even feign surprise. There were demons everywhere, the Divine was dead, and a mage was rumored to be the Herald of Andraste. His life often felt like a never ending Varric Tethras novel.





	1. Alyn Trevelyan

Alyn Trevelyan knew the Fade before she knew herself. The Otherworld fed her adventurer’s heart every time she closed her eyes for sleep. Sometimes she was alone, but other times, there were strange beings that came to her, taught her, shared with her, and explored with her. Most were content to watch her explore, occasionally whispering their secrets in her ears before fading away. Some were sad, so sad that their presence made her weep. Some were so angry they made her want to wake up safe in her nice warm bed.  They would come to her, so large, so sad or angry, and she would reach out to try and sooth the pain. Sometimes, she could help them, though she didn’t understand how. They would depart, the emotion drifting away. That was just the way it was, and the way it would always be for her. She didn’t have to understand it to accept it. The understanding would come later.

As a young child, her mother fretted over her ‘overactive imagination’ when she babbled on about the changing world of emerald light. When she was told it was time to grow up and stop fantasizing, she learned it was best to keep her adventures confined to her journal. As she grew, she could always count on the escape at night.

Even at twelve, the expectations of The Game weighed on her. While she enviously watched her older brothers spar from the high window in the study, her tutor droned on about the proper way for a lady to sit and how high to hold her fan when talking to other nobles. She hated it all. It was so boring and so unfair. Filibert would be sent to the Order soon, and she wanted to play with him before he was gone forever. Maybe it wasn’t forever, but it certainly felt like it. Killian, the oldest of them, had gone when he was fifteen. His visits over the three years were few and far between. With both Filibert and Killian gone, it would just be Alyn and Cassius. Cassius wasn’t interested in adventures, not like the others. Sure, he sparred with the rest of them, but he was more interested in books and spies. Sometimes it felt like they should trade places.

“Mistress Alyn, are you paying attention at all?” The tutor, an old elf with bifocals and salt and peppered hair, peered at her, exasperated and amused all at once. She was not only her tutor, but her nanny and her friend. Her name was Mevra, and Alyn adored her to bits.  Her lessons weren’t always boring. Usually they would go outside and Mevra would teach her about the world. When the boring lessons started, Alyn knew that her mother had recently scolded Mevra for her pointless lectures, reminding her that Alyn would never need to worry about which berries were poisonous or how much elfroot was needed for salves. Mevra’s family had worked for the Trevelyan family for generations, which was the only thing keeping her from being fired.

Alyn smiled sheepishly at the elf, fiddling with her skirts. “No. I want to spar with Fili.”

 

“Your mother would be very displeased, Mistress Alyn,” Mevra said. There was an amused glint in her eyes. “She’s very worried about the dinner next week. Last time, you forgot to sit like a lady and your knees were all bruised up.”  
“They hurt! I fell down the slope by the stream. I was looking for Elfroot for my potions.” She’d never utter the words to anyone other than Mevra, knowing they’d disapprove.  
“And how is that potion coming, Mistress Alyn?” Mavra moved toward the window, throwing it open to allow a cool breeze to sweep through the room.

 

The excitement swelled up in her faster than she could contain it. It started in her toes, a tingle that traveled all the way to her fingertips.  “It smells just like you said it would!” That energy coiled at her chest, and suddenly her body felt just like it did in her dreams. “I did it right! I took the book, and I followed the directions, Mevra!” At her last word, the energy seemed to explode. Frost climbed along the walls, snow swirling around them.

Mevra inhaled sharply, her eyes wide, a hand flying to her lips. “Alyn…” There was stillness, the snow still falling around them. When Mevra fell to Alyn’s side, taking her hands, they were trembling. “Alyn…”  
  
“That was me,” Alyn said. Her voice was hoarse, her head spinning. Magic. She had magic. She knew what happened to people with magic. She _couldn’t_ have magic. “Mevra, I did that.”

“You did,” Mevra said, as if she had suspected for a very long time. She held the child’s hands tightly. “Don’t fret. Oh no, no, Mistress Alyn, don’t weep.”

“You can’t tell, Mevra. They’ll send me away. They’ll send me away.” They’d take her away and never let her come back.

“I won’t, Mistress Alyn. I won’t.” And she wouldn’t have. It was obvious that she loved the child like her own. Perhaps, in a perfect world, the secret would have stayed between the two, locked in a moment of fear and wonder as the snow fell around them.

“Mevra, I need Alyn ready for supper early ton-.” Nora Trevelyan froze in the doorway, her usually unreadable face frozen in horror. She looked at the scene before her, comprehending far too quickly. She fixed her expression. “Alyn, go to your room. We will have supper brought to you.”

“Mother!” The moment she stood, dropping Mevra’s hands, the snow fell harder. The tears fell harder. “Mother, please don’t send me away!” She felt Mevra’s hand on her shoulder, but she ignored it, continuing to beg her mother, her words lost to sobs.

 

Her tears and her pleas fell on deaf ears. The next day, the Templars arrived. She felt numb as her father dropped to his knees in front of her, her mother stone cold behind him. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, and she couldn’t recall another time she’d ever seen him cry. Years later, she wished she could remember what he told her, but everything was too hazy.

When they guided her away, she clutched her journal to her chest, silently grieving for the end of her life as she knew it. At least she still had the dreams.

* * *

 

The homesickness came in waves, usually strongest when she got letters from her father and Cassius and Mevra. They came daily, and she was grateful for them. She did her best to write them back, but life in the Circle was much busier than she’d thought it would be. Instead of moping about it, she’d decided to see it as a grand adventure. With the new perspective, everything became much more exciting. Magic was no longer something whispered about in the halls between meals. It was a lifestyle. As the newest, and the youngest, the others took her under their wings. They were delightful, at least most of the time. She still had to learn the boring things, but somehow, with magic, it all seemed much less droll.  

With all of her lessons and her studies, she found herself lost in adventures during her sleep less and less. She never mentioned the dreams, and that was probably a good thing. The more she learned, the more she realized that it wasn’t even normal for mages to visit places in their dreams- at least not without Lyrium or herbs. While she kept her secret, she turned her focus to other matters. Matters of spells and potions- she had a particular talent for potions and herbs, and she wrote to Mevra all the time about new recipes she discovered.

She missed her family, but even that was eased after her first year in the circle. When they sent Fili to be a Templar in the Circle, the two were thrilled. They knew they weren’t supposed to interact, but Fili often snuck to her rooms, chatting about the Chantry and, eventually, after months of begging, Filibert finally started teaching her how to handle a blade. It was almost as if everything bad that happened had finally given way to happiness.

At least, there was happiness until Filibert was sent away a few days before Alyn turned sixteen. He wasn’t the only one, and Alyn desperately hoped that her brother hadn’t gotten in trouble for being so friendly with herself and the rest of the mages. She could never tell for sure, but with the next group of Templars came a change. For the mages in the Ostwick Circle, it was not a pleasant change.

The relationships between the Mages and their keepers had never been particularly tense. Alyn knew from the start that sometimes magic was deadly, and Templars were simply there to protect everyone involved. For four years, she never thought anything of the power dynamics, but with the new Templars, it was impossible to miss. They reminded her of the spirits that she’d encountered in the fade- hot and cold and all shades in between. When they were hot, they were violent, lashing out at any mage that dared step a toe out of line. When they were cold, Alyn found herself contained to her room for days on end, her fellow mages suffering the same suffocating walls.

Whispers of uprising flitted through the hallways, and the Templars were undoubtedly aware of them. Alyn didn’t whisper. She pretended as if she couldn’t hear the rumors. The Templars were there to help them, and she wanted absolutely no part in an uprising. Perhaps this batch of Templars were cruel and wrong, but that did not mean that the entire system was cruel and wrong. At least, she hoped it wasn’t.

 

“Little knife ear thinking she’s above the rules-.”

Alyn’s pace slowed when she heard the slur. She was headed down the hallway, grimuar in hand. Honestly, she wondered when she’d become accustomed to hearing the Templars throw one slur or another toward them. The anger she tried to keep under control was slowly building with each passing day. They were bullies, the lot of them, and she’d never had any patience for bullies.

Part of her, a selfish part that simply wanted to get to the shrine for prayer, urged her to turn away from the voice. The greater part of her, the part that refused to bow under an unfair and harsh chain of command, ultimately won out, and she continued on her path, green eyes sharp. She knew who they were tormenting, and she wasn’t having any of it.

Sure enough, when she rounded the corner, the two large brutes had the small elven mage backed into the corner, a broken vial of elfroot potion at her feet. Luna, the youngest in Ostwick for the moment, and terribly shy, looked up at then, her blue eyes fearful. “I didn’t mean to, Ser.”

“Of course you didn’t mean to. Mages never mean to do anything,” Tomas said. He stepped closer, grabbing her arm roughly.

“Is there a problem here?” Alyn asked, somehow fitting herself between Luna and Tomas. From the moment Luna stepped foot in the circle, Alyn had taken her under her wing. Although she was still only seventeen herself, she saw it as her personal responsibility to make sure that Luna was safe and happy despite the declining atmosphere.

“She busted my personal property. This area is closed off during prayer.” Tomas let go of Luna, unused to being challenged.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Jasper added, stepping up behind his companion. “You’re to be in prayer right now. What’s it to you if we teach the rabbit about how life works here?”

“Here.” Alyn reached into the pocket in her skirts, pressing a bottle of elfroot potion into Tomas’s hands. “All fixed. We’ll be going to the temple now, serah.” She flashed a brilliant smile before turning and purposefully guiding Luna toward the door. She wrapped a comforting arm around her, ignoring the protests from the Templars.  
“I didn’t break it,” Luna whispered, voice thick with tears. “I promise, I didn’t break it. Jasper did.”

“I believe you, honey.” She continued guiding her. “They’re bullies, and we’ve got to listen to them, but that doesn’t mean we can’t protect each other. Did they hurt you?”

“No,” said Luna. “But they wanted to, I could feel it.” She sighed, resting her head lightly against Alyn’s shoulder. “Is it always like this?”

“Not always, no, but it’s always good to be wary of them. It’s better to move with at least one other person. It’s harder to get blamed for things when there is a witness.” She smiled. “We have to stick together.”  
“I don’t know many people yet.” Luna looked down, and broke Alyn’s heart. She was just a child, and she was an elf to boot. She knew it couldn’t have been easy.

“You know me. I’ll look out for you,” Alyn said. She smiled warmly. “The others will warm up to you.” With a glance over her shoulder, she opened the door to the shrine, making sure that Jasper and Tomas weren’t following them. She knew she’d get some slack for opposing the two brutes, but she had no idea just what Hell she’d unleashed on herself.

 

A week of occasional shoves and filthy comment put her on edge. Honestly, these templars felt more like children with every passing day. Were it not for the thinly veiled threats to make her Tranquil, she would have laughed them off entirely. As it was, the threat of being turned Tranquill was very real.

Before the crueler templars had arrived, she’d only witnessed two mages turned tranquill. One had opted out of the Harrowing, afraid to face her own demon. The second’s abilities were far too advanced for his control, and the Order deemed that he would be safer Tranquill. The two left quite an impact on the young mage. She couldn’t imagine making that choice, no matter how much she feared the temptations that Demons brought. To be cut off from her emotions, her personality, and her magic seemed like a fate worse than death.

When things started to get rough, the Templars seemed to be making Tranquilles left and right. Friends were taken, changed before they’d had a chance to even attempt their Harrowing, and she knew if she stirred up too much trouble, she would be next. So she very carefully toed the line, excelling in her studies, praying devoutly, and standing up when only absolutely necessary. It made her feel like a coward, but until she passed her Harrowing, there wasn’t anything she could do.

With a bundle of herbs in her arms, she quietly made her way toward Luna’s quarters. She’d been giving working with her on herbology privately since she arrived, eager to pass on her knowledge. Luna reminded Alyn of herself as a younger child. She was eager to learn but lacked the patience to really take it all in. Alyn knew how to work with that.

Turning the corner, she stopped quickly, heart racing. Tomas was standing just in front of her, something dark lurking in the depths of his eyes. “Excuse me, ser.” She tilted her chin to the air, acting as if she wasn’t nearly a foot smaller than him. “I just need to get through.” When she felt Jasper slide up behind her, she swore the hallway was closing in on her.

“We’re going for a walk,” Tomas said. He smiled, and Alyn swore that he looked like a demon in that moment. She’d heard vicious rumors about what Templars did to mages when they got them alone, and she’d never really believed them until this moment.

“It’s almost curfew,” Alyn protested, taking a step back. When she felt Jasper behind her, she did the only thing her brain could process: She ran. Dropping the herbs without so much as a second to think, she took off, weaving around Tomas, heart thumping. She heard them chasing her, and desperately wished she would have accepted the knife Fili had offered before he’d departed.

The only option seemed to be up, so she hitched up her skirt and took the stairs two at a time, blood rushing through her ears like a tidal wave. She knew the moment she stopped, something horrible would happen. The lyrium in their blood made them immune to her magic, and her hand to hand combat skills were next to nothing. “Please. Please. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.”

Later, she would blame herself for running to the tower- if she’d taken a turn, if she’d gone a different way, they couldn’t have trapped her. She gasped as she nearly ran headlong into the tower wall, pressing herself against it as if she could fall through and be free. “The Maker is with us! His Light shall be our banner, and we shall bear it through the gates…” She prayed quietly as they strolled in, they eyes hungry, their lips drawn in those cruel smiles.

“The Maker does not listen to abominations,” Jasper said. He chuckled softly. “But keep praying, Mage. Perhaps it will help you learn your place at the feet of the Maker’s true disciples.”

And she did pray, but either the Maker did not hear her prayers or He did not care, because there were no miracles for Alyn that day, nor in the months or years that followed. She learned very quickly that even those who were supposed to be the ultimate good in the world, could be the most wicked.

 

If they thought their hands could tame her into submission, if they thought their pathetic cocks could punish her into silence, they thought wrong. They ignited a fire, a desperate need to protect the others in the Circle from the Templars abusive and depraved methods. Outright rebellion was a quick way to end up Tranquil and silent. She stewed on ways to put an to them, disappeared into the safety of the fade to avoid their faces when they dragged her up to that tower to use her. The temptations of the demons were loud, always making promises to save her, to give her the power to end it all, but she resisted. She didn’t need their help. 

She’d never enjoyed the Game, but as an almost powerless mage, the Game would be her biggest weapon. She wrote letters. She smiled and she simpered and she flirted. She froze all the anger and rage and hurt and terror away in her chest, buried it so far within herself, she felt like an Ice Queen playing chess. They were pawns, and they were expendable. 

She wasn’t blind to the other abuse going on in the Circle, in fact, she was hyper aware of it. Others were suffering, and, cold or not, she would not stand by and let it happen. It took some doing, but by the time she was twenty-one and had passed her Harrowing, the original Templars that made their lives Hell had been filtered out. Well placed letters and mentions of her family garnered them positions away from their once safe Circle. It would have worked if the Rebellion hadn’t turned almost all the Templars into terrified brutes. When Hell reigned upon the Ostwick Circle, the night soaked in blood, she and Luna made their escape. There were others that managed to get out as well, though she wouldn’t find out who until later. 

“Why do they hate us, Lyn?” Luna asked, her voice breaking as they watched the place that had been their home for so long burn in the night. “We weren’t going to rebel like the other Circles.” 

“We should have,” Alyn said, the orange and red flames reflecting in her emerald eyes. “They hate us because they fear us.” She took her hand, guiding her farther into the trees, wary of Templars finding them. 

“Where will we go?” 

Alyn didn’t answer, in part because she didn’t know how to answer. Who would take in two mages, probably considered rebels? Instead, she squeezed Luna’s hand, moving quickly through the forest. It didn’t matter where they went, Alyn intended to be sure that Luna was safe. She didn’t know the future, but she damn well intended on making it better than the past. 

The two traveled, finding Inns that never asked too many questions, and Alyn fell back into the habits of her childhood. The Fade was her refuge, and she was free of the heavy burden she carried in her chest. The spirits visited her often, sharing their stories and offering her hope. Every age brought suffering, but there was always bits of gleaming gold that warmed even the darkest times. 

She never imagined she would find someone else in the Fade. A companion. It happened quite by accident as she floated, watching an old battle waged before her ancestors had even been thought of. The energy had frightened her. It was much more solid than spirits and she could not immediately feel what their intentions were. 

“Who are you?” She asked, feeling the battle slip away. It was a him, she could feel the masculine energy, the way he held himself, though seeing was entirely different in her trips to the Fade. She couldn’t see his features, but she could feel certain things about him. He was an elf- an old elf, with energy that seemed to glow brighter every time she met him. 

“A friend,” he said every time she asked. 

“A friend with no name?”

“At this moment in time, yes. A friend with no name.” 

In the Fade, that almost felt normal. They didn’t talk, but they communicated. She’d never considered that there were others like her- other Dreamers. He took her to places she’d never thought to explore, asked her questions about the world outside of dreams. It was hard to hide things in the fade, so Alyn had to be very careful about clearing her mind before she lay down so she didn’t share, too much. He was aware that she was hiding things, but he never pried. It was comfortable to explore with him, and he awakened a thirst for learning that she’d forgotten she’d ever had. These trips to the fade made her realize she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. Everything in her life for the past few years had been fueled by icy rage, a desperate need to survive in a situation that often seemed hopeless. That wasn’t who she wanted to be. 

“Who do you want to be?” He asked one night, when her thoughts were too loud to be protected. She felt the way he was tuned into her answer, as if it meant something to him.

She took a few moments, or it might have been hours- it was hard to tell in the Fade- before she attempted to answer. “I want to be warm.” 

“Warm?”

How could she explain everything she wanted to be? How could she explain that there was so much she wanted to do? So much she wanted to change? So many people who needed help, and if she could help, she wanted to? Was that who she was as a person? Apparently she was projecting her thoughts loudly again, because he shifted beside her, his chuckle breathless.

“You want to be a savior. I did, too. Be careful. It never ends the way you think it does.”

Alyn considered that for a long moment. “No, not a savior. I’ve no interest in being a savior. I just want to do what I can.” She didn’t want to change the whole world. Not really. Just pieces of it. 

Their thoughts settled again, comfortable and quiet. She could feel the sun rising, felt herself fading back into the real world. His voice was soft, and she couldn’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it. “I wish you luck.”

The next day, she decided she needed to go to the Conclave. If things were ever to change, that was where the change would be. She made sure that Luna was comfortable, safe in a little home with an old woman that put them up, promised she’d write and be back for her as soon as possible, and then she started her journey. She didn’t know if she’d ever truly be the person she wanted to be, but she was going to try. She didn’t want to be a savior, but it seemed fate had other plans once again.


	2. Of Distrust and Introductions

After everything that happened through his life, Cullen Rutherford shouldn’t have been shocked when the sky ripped open and demons fell from the heavens. Andraste preserve him, the world was falling to pieces around him, and he couldn’t even feign surprise. There were demons everywhere, the Divine was dead, and a mage was rumored to be the Herald of Andraste. His life often felt like a never ending Varric Tethras novel.

“Cassandra is bringing her here, correct?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to meet this so-called-herald. His blue eyes flicked toward Leliana and Josephine . “Are we going to encourage these rumors?”

“I think it would be beneficial to our cause if people believed she truly came from Andraste’s side,” Josie said. She glanced toward Leliana, looking for support.

“She closed a rift earlier, as I am sure you heard, Commander. Despite Roderick’s claims that she started this, I believe she is as desperate as the rest of us. Holy or not, we may need her if we are to have any hopes at closing the rift.” It was as close to support as Leliana would offer.

Cullen didn’t like it. As much as he despised Roderick and the idea of agreeing with him, the idea of a false prophet felt fundamentally wrong. From what he’d seen during the battle, she didn’t look divine. They knew nothing about this woman, and the fact that she was a Mage just added to his layers of skepticism. He’d never seen magic powerful enough to rip open a sky, but he had seen the destruction and fear that unkept magic could bring. If she was strong enough to rip the sky in two, what else could she accomplish?

Still, he scolded himself, he would wait to pass judgement until he’d actually met the ‘Herald’. He trusted Cassandra’s judgement, and he knew that Josephine and Leliana raised good points as well. His own discomfort could be tabled for the moment.

“Apparently, she and Solas knew each other,” Leliana added quietly. Her gaze swept along the war table. “They said strange things about dreams that made Cassandra uncomfortable.”

If Cassandra was uncomfortable, it meant that Cullen would be uncomfortable. He rubbed his neck, sighing. “We know next to nothing about Solas, too. Who is this woman?”

“Her name is Alyn Trevelyan, from the Free Marches originally. She came to the Conclave last month,” Josephine supplied. She sighed heavily. “Anything more we will simply have to ask her about.”

“We do know that the Divine called out to her for help,” Leliana said. She crossed her arms. “Apparently, she remembers nothing else.”

The trio shifted toward the door at the sound of footsteps. Whatever Cullen had been expecting of the Herald, it certainly wasn’t who walked through the door. He hadn’t been paying enough attention when they’d met on the field. It was obvious the second she walked in the room that she was noble. From the way she held herself to the way she walked, the woman screamed poise and control. Her green eyes were quick, calculating already as she looked them over. She appeared unruffled, and that bothered Cullen for some reason. She’d just been accused of destroying the world, suddenly realized she was possibly the only one who could save the world, and was being inducted into a blossoming rebellion all within the span of a day and she didn’t even have the decency to look like a mess.

“May I introduce Commander Cullen, commander of the Inquisition’s forces.” Cassandra gestured to him, and he resisted the urge to glower.

“Such as they are. We lost many soldiers with the breach, and I suspect we will lose many more.” He wasn’t sure what made him say it, perhaps his distrust or perhaps he simply wanted to see her reaction. He was cowed when he saw her flinch ever so slightly, eyes dropping down. Well, it was good to know she cared if people lived or died.

“And this is Leliana, left hand to the Divine-”

“Former Left hand.” Leave it to Leliana to give them the unpleasant reminder that the one woman who could make a difference was gone.

Cassandra chose to ignore her. “And Lady Josephine Montilyet, ambassador and chief diplomat.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Alyn.”

“That’s an impressive bunch of titles,” Alyn said, her smile tired. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

Cullen watched her, suddenly realizing she wasn’t as composed as she’d first appeared. There was an exhaustion in those sharp eyes, a tired lilt in her voice. Part of the distrust eased, not all of it, not even most of it, but a small part. As Cassandra and Leliana and Josephine discussed the world, he noted her watching, taking it all in, but he realized she’s just as lost as the rest of them. When she looked at him, he realized he was staring and dragged his gaze to Cassandra at her mention of the mages. “Adding more magic to this situation could prove to make things even worse.”

“Pure speculation,” Leliana said.

“I was a Templar, I know what they are capable of.” Cullen set his jaw, watching her.  She waved a hand, and Cullen knew it would not be the end of the conversation, it just wasn’t the time or the place for it.

“The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition- and you, specifically,” Leliana continued.

“That didn’t take long,” Alyn said.

“Shouldn’t they be concerned about electing the next divine?” Cullen asked, unamused by the entire event. The chantry support would have been helpful, but it wasn’t necessary. Roderick had made sure to shout to anyone that would listen that their Herald was nothing more than a dangerous Mage. Whether or not it was true remained to be seen.

“Just how am I the Herald of Andraste?” Ah, so she hadn’t heard of her knew title. He listened to the women discuss the rumors, and watched the stranger in the room, gauging her reaction.

“It’s quite the title, isn’t it? How do you feel about that?” Would she revel in her new found power?

“It’s a little unsettling,” Alyn replied after a moment. That was reassuring at least. Cullen settled back again. Maker, he was exhausted. It was more than a little unsettling if he were being honest, but he would just have to wait and see what this Harold could do, and pray that the world didn’t crumble before they got the chance to stop it.

* * *

 

Exhaustion didn’t even begin to describe how Alyn felt at the moment. Even after falling into her bed, dead asleep before her head hit the pillow the night before, she couldn’t seem to shake the bone deep sleep deprivation from her limbs. As she pushed herself up in the cot, she winced, looking down at the mark on her arm. It ached, pulsing with energy that wasn’t altogether unfamiliar. It felt like the Fade, like pieces of the Fade were trapped in her arm. It was powerful and intoxicating and terrifying all the once. She didn’t want that sort of power.

As she finished dressing and tying her hair back, a knock on the door had her reaching for her staff, half afraid they’d decided to execute her after all. “Yes?” She relaxed as the door opened and Solas carefully stepped inside.

“Good morning, Lady Trevelyn,” He said. The physical sound of his voice was strange to Alyn. She’d grown so used to their conversation in the Fade, the physicality felt almost intimidating.

“Good morning, friend with no name.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she strapped her staff against her back. “I believe I asked you to call me Alyn.”

He chuckled softly. “Alyn, then.” He gestured to the door. “As I understand it, they are in need of elfroot for the healing potions and tonics. I thought we could gather some.”

“Maker, you are a life-saver,” Alyn said. She grabbed her shawl, draping it around her shoulders. “Are they still waiting to mob me?” Their praise felt false and only reminded her that her position was precarious here.

“No. Commander Cullen passed by this morning, and Lady Montilyet had to apologize to the people he chased off.” He smiled slightly, moving out of the little hut. “I believe they will leave you alone lest they find themselves with a very angry Knight-Captain.”

To say she was surprised was an understatement. “I’ll have to thank him.” She grabbed her bag before following him out. Finding a comfortable silence, the two made their way down the path, stopping occasionally to pluck elfroot.

It was Solas that broke the silence. “The chosen of Andraste. A Blessed hero sent to save us all.” He watched her, eyes bright and curious.

“Sounds dashing,” Alyn said. She snorted, forgetting for a moment that she was a lady and ladies weren’t to snort according to her mother. “Remember when I mentioned that I didn’t want to be a savior? Apparently, I’ve no say in the matter.” She sighed, fiddling with her hair. “I’m not a hero, Solas. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I can’t even remember what happened.”

“Some would say you were in the right place at the right time, Alyn. Every war has it’s heroes. I’m just curious what sort you’ll be.” He leaned down, gently plucking another piece of Elfroot from the ground and setting it into her basket. “You wanted to make a difference, after all.”

Alyn settled against a tree, closing her eyes for a moment. “I hope a good hero.” He was right, though. She did want to make a difference, she just wished she could have done it on her own terms. With a sudden need to change the subject she looked up at him. “I’m glad you’re here, but why are you here?”

He leaned against his staff, smiling slightly. “I’d heard about the conclave from you, and when the sky ripped open, I knew that it was the place I could make the most difference. It was lucky I did. Cassandra threatened to have me made tranquil if I didn’t get answers about the mark on your hand.”

Alyn’s lip curled. “I wouldn’t have let her done that.”

“You were hardly in a position to stop her. She was bluffing. Everyone was frightened, and I seemed the best option to offer answers. She apologized after we arrived here.” He held his hand out to help her up. “Let’s get these herbs back to Haven..”

Alyn accepted his hand, releasing it immediately after she was steady on her feet. “They shouldn’t have been cruel to you.” She grabbed her basket, breathing in the crisp fresh Elfroot. It made her feel better.

“Oh, Cassandra was quite accommodating, but you understand my caution,” Solas said.

“I don’t know that I’ve got much sway here, but I won’t let them hurt you.” She meant it, too. It often felt as though she was friendless, so the few friends she had, she intended to protect.

The surprise on his face was clear, and he quickly smoothed it away. “That is...generous of you, Alyn. I appreciate the thought.”


	3. Of Awkward Conversations and Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the quotes are directly from the game!

“You there! There’s a shield in your hand. Block with it!” Cullen watched his recruits as they moved through the exercises. They were fresh, young, and inexperienced, but they were damn good men and women. He’d make sure they were prepared for whatever they faced. “If this man were your enemy, you’d be dead.” Whatever it took. He looked down at the paperwork Josephine had sent for him to review. Complaints from the Chantry. More demands than complaints. It appeared too many of the Templars had decided to join them. He smirked, oddly satisfied with it. 

A soft burst of laughter drifted over the sounds of metal clanking and soldiers grunting. Cullen raised his face toward the unfamiliar sound. He almost didn’t recognize their Herald as she strolled up the path with the Apostate. She had her deep auburn hair tugged up into a lazy bun at the top of her head, her dirty coat and traveling robes replaced with a woolen tunic and draped shawl. Her lips were quirked up in a smile as she chatted with the elf. The smile softened her face, and Cullen was struck by the realization of how young she was.  

He watched Solas murmur something to her, and flushed when she looked up, catching him staring. He instantly dropped his gaze to the folder in his hand. Maker, that was twice he’d be caught staring. He was no better than the idiots he’d chased off right after dawn. With Cassandra’s insistence that she was innocent of the crime Roderick accused her of, Cullen was swayed. She was no more a villain than the rest of them. If the Maker truly sent her to save them, he would have to accept that. Mage or not.

“Seems the Inquisition’s army is coming along well, Commander,” Alyn said. Her voice lacked the laughter she’d had with Solas, not cold exactly, but there was a cool edge there. He was sorry to hear her happiness fade away. 

“We’ve received a number of recruits- Locals from Haven and some pilgrims.” Cullen looked toward her, voice softening slightly. Sometimes he forgot how to speak to anyone other than the soldiers he was training. “None of them made quite the entrance you did.”

There. He spotted a hint of amusement in her eyes. “At least I got everyone’s attention,” she said. After the words left her mouth, she let out a gentle laugh. It was nothing like the one he’d heard before, more refined, as if she wasn’t able to relax. “They look like stand up soldiers, Commander. I imagine having a Templar training them, they’ll be the best of the best.” 

He couldn’t keep the surprise from his eyes. “Ex-Templar. Did Cassandra tell you?” He glanced over himself, as if checking to see if he were wearing any emblems or other identifying marks. When he looked up again, she was watching him. It was only fair, he supposed.

“She didn’t need to,” said Alyn. She smiled ruefully. “I grew up in the Circle, Commander. I’d recognize a templar anywhere.” There was something hidden in that statement that Cullen didn’t like. He also could have gone without the reminder of the Circle. The mention of it always brought unwanted memories flooding his mind, and the lyrium withdrawal didn’t help the situation. He could feel it humming in the other Templars around him. 

“Ah,” he said. He shifted, rubbing his neck lightly. “I was recruited for the Inquisition from Kirkwall, myself. I was there for the mage uprising- I saw first hand the devastation it caused. Cassandra sought a solution.” Why did he say that? It seemed stupid and careless the moment it was out of his mouth. “When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause.”

“The devastation,” Alyn said, unreadable. 

“Now,” Cullen continued. “It seems we face something far worse.” Why was it when he wanted words, none would come, but the moment he didn’t want to speak, they spewed forth? 

“The world is a mess, Commander, but that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” She sounded so sure of the Inquisition, or maybe she was sure of herself. “If you’ve already done such good work with these soldiers, Cassandra was right to recruit you.”

He could feel the flush creeping up his neck. “You’re too kind, Herald. A commander is only as good as his greenest recruit.” 

“Please, don’t call me Herald.” Alyn shuddered, tugging her shawl closer to her body. It was the first time he’d seen her uncomfortable. 

“You don’t like the title?” 

“I don’t think I deserve it, Commander. I have a hard time believing you believe Andraste could have sent me.” This time, there was bitterness in her voice. He was wounded by it, and it was clear on his face. 

“Pardon me?” He managed, letting his hands fall to his side. 

“Forgive me. That came out harsher than I anticipated.” She rubbed her eyes lightly, composing that impeccable facade. “I don’t mean to be rude, Commander. I just meant that it’s hard to believe that Andraste would send a mage as he chosen, and the fact that I can’t remember what happened makes it harder to believe.” 

Cullen sometimes had to remind himself that he wasn’t the only one to suffer in the Circle. The tension left his eyes as he replied. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself. The Maker works in strange ways. Not that you're being a mage is strange. I mean to say, sometimes He works through us in- Maker.” He pinched his nose. “I’ve muddled this haven’t I?” 

When she laughed this time, it had some of the warmth he’d heard the first time. “Perhaps we both have.” 

He looked down at her, once again taken off guard. “I apologize, Lady Trevelyan. I admit I’ve judged mages- harshly- because of my experiences. I know that it is unfair of me.”

“Did you judge me harshly when you heard I was a mage?” There wasn’t any condemnation in her voice, simply curiosity. 

“Yes.” The confession was quick and honest. He didn’t see the point in lying to her. “But you have done nothing to earn my distrust. You’ve joined our cause without complaint, even after you were treated poorly. I should have tried harder to put my bias aside. You’ve done nothing to garner my distrust.” He smiled slightly down at her. “I hope we can still work together.”

She held his gaze for a moment, considering his words carefully. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Commander.” She broke eye contact, glancing down. “I appreciate you putting your bias aside, and I’ll do the same. The Inquisition is the important thing, here.” She gestured to the men and women training around them. “We owe it to them to do our jobs properly.” 

He nodded, shifting his weight. “Of course, Lady Trevelyan.” If she wanted to keep everything professional, he could do that. It made him feel a bit better, actually. 

“Thank you, Commander,” She said. With a faint smile, she turned, her basket of Elfroot hanging from her arm. He turned as well, hoping future conversations would be less volatile on his end. “Oh, Commander?” He turned toward her, curious expression on his face. “Thank you for this morning. For sending them away.” 

He smiled, watching her leave. “Of course, Lady Trevelyan. I’ll be here if you need anything.” Herald or not, he hoped she was prepared for the battles ahead. 

* * *

The trip to the Hinterlands to visit Mother Giselle went better than Alyn had thought it could. Hearing her views on magic had been a refreshing change, especially considering all the bickering between Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine on whether she should visit the mages or the Templars. Their bickering wasn’t helping her decide. She didn’t want to go to the Templars. The Lord Seeker’s declaration that they were all fools made her even more hesitant. 

The problem was she didn’t want to avoid them because of her own feelings toward Templars. She wanted what was best for the Inquisition, not what made her most comfortable. She knew Cassandra’s feelings on the matter, and Sera thought both groups were a lost cause. Lady Vivianne hadn’t arrived yet, but she had a feeling she’d also tell her to go with the Templars. They’d had a brief conversation before Alyn left her party, and Vivianne obviously thought the rebel mages would be a bigger problem than a solution. 

She trusted her companions, and their opinion was nearly unanimous. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was the wrong choice. If only she could articulate why she felt that way. She tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she headed toward her hut. “Maker, I know you don’t listen to me, but if you wanted to  _ speak _ to me-” 

“If He gets back to you, let us all know what He says. I imagine a lot of people would like to hear from Him.” Varric’s voice caught her off guard. She jumped, looking at him with wide eyes for a moment. She liked Varric, quite a bit, and not just because she’d had a collection of his novels back at the Circle. She’d only managed to grab one before the rest were engulfed.  His quips on the trip helped keep her grounded, and the casual conversation was good. Of course, if he could stop egging Cassandra on that would be nice. 

“Hi, Varric,” Alyn said. She moved toward his fire, letting the warmth wash over her. 

“Long night?”

“Long life.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t complain.”

“Well, why not? Everyone else does it. Or is there some clause in Herald-ness that says you aren’t allowed? I’ve never read the bylaws.” He patted the blanket spread out behind him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit down, Firefly.”

“Firefly?” Alyn sat down, her muscles screaming in protest. “I can’t sit down. It’s also in the bylaws of Heraldness.” 

“Yea. Firefly.” It seemed that was all the explanation he was going to give. He prodded the fire with a soft groan. “Mage Templar discussion getting to you?”

She wondered if he’d always been so perceptive or if he’d had to learn. “You’re the only one that hasn’t chimed in on it.” Her gaze leveled on the fire, puzzled. “No opinion?”

“Oh, I’ve got an opinion on everything. Couldn’t tell you if they’re right or not.” He grinned at her, shaking his head. “Besides, if people’s opinions were going to sway you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we?”

“I suppose not. I’d still like to hear your opinion, Varric. I’m not the only risking my life. The decision is…” More responsibility than she wanted to have. People were going to die. Her choices would mean that people would die. She kept her face carefully blank. “Is going to affect everything from here on out.”

“I want to hear your opinion.” 

It took a moment for Alyn to realize he wasn’t joking. “I don’t trust my opinion.” She rested her chin on her knees. “I don’t want my emotions to cloud my choice.”

“So you’d rather other people’s emotions cloud it? Come on, Firefly. You’re smart. Yes, emotions can complicate things, but they aren’t always bad. You don’t want the Templars.” 

“I don’t want the Templars,” she said.

“Just because you don’t like them?” Varric prodded her with his elbow lightly, somehow keeping the question light. 

“No. My brothers are Templars. I know they aren’t all like the ones we fought in the Hinterlands.” She did know that. Honestly, she did. Sure, she didn’t trust most, but her anger hadn’t completely clouded her common sense. “We fought plenty of apostates, too.”

“So, what is it? Beyond not liking them.” 

“The Templars are very well trained, and they’re always good to have fighting on your side.”

“I feel a ‘but’ coming on.”

“But, they’re loyal to themselves and they are a strong organization within themselves. There’s corruption, but what organization doesn’t have corruption?” Alyn frowned at the flames, running her fingers lightly along the material of her pants, thoughtful. “Templars already have reputations, good and bad. There are expectations and there is a predictability to them that I don’t think would benefit the Inquisition. Not to mention the logistics with Lyrium. We aren’t exactly friendly with many providers at the moment, and we aren’t swimming in gold.”

“All good points, Firefly.”

“That doesn’t mean that the mages don’t come with risks, too.” She looked to him finally. “We can be a volatile group, and magic unchecked is dangerous. There’s always the risk of demons.”

“He comes another but.” 

“But, we- they’re powerful allies to have, Varric. Some mages are loyal to the Circle, some are loyal to the Rebellion now, but we aren’t  _ part _ of anything. Not really. Not by choice. We’re born this way, and we’re sent to the Circles without any chance to make a declaration of loyalty. I truly believe that if we gave them the chance to join something bigger, something that doesn’t look at them and automatically label them a monster or something to be controlled, they would be powerful allies.” 

“I never anticipated hearing such wisdom from the South,” A new voice drawled from the other side of the fire. Alyn hadn’t noticed the Tevinter approach. “I have a new respect for you, Herald. Or is it Firefly now?”

“Alyn, actually,” she said. She raised an eyebrow. “Welcome to the conversation, Dorian. You’d probably be a help.” 

“Oh no, by all means, I’d much rather hear the rest of what you’ve got to say,” He said. He cocked a brow, smirking. “I shouldn’t have interrupted.” 

“I probably wouldn’t mention that you let Magister here sway you one way or another,” Varric told Alyn lightly.

“Ah yes, we wouldn’t want anyone to jump to the conclusion that I’m trying to turn the Inquisition into a hand of Tevinter, would we?” Dorian settled on the corner of the blanket. “Couldn’t tarnish the sterling reputation you’ve got here.” 

Alyn snorted at that. “I’m not worried about what people say, Varric. They’re going to talk either way.” She looked to Dorian, serious. “I can’t tell when you’re being sarcastic and when you’re being serious. Normally, I appreciate the style, but right now, I’d rather not be mocked.” 

He blinked, apparently taken aback by her bluntness. “I was serious about the new respect. Of course I want to save Alexius from whatever mess he’s gotten himself into, but I appreciate the fact that you’ve thought about this. It means I’ve made the right choice in coming to your cause. I do so enjoy being proved right.” 

Alyn relaxed a fraction. “Thank you, Dorian. I appreciate everything you’ve offered to us.” She glanced back to Varric. “I do still want your opinion. Don’t laugh at me.”

He kept laughing. “Would you believe me if I told you we have the same opinion? I think you might be the only one using their head instead of their guts.” He fiddled with Bianca, still chuckling. “Don’t forget that I sided with Hawke when the uprising started. My opinions haven’t changed.” 

“So, it’s settled,” Doran said. He clasped his hands together. “And you were worried. It all seems very simple to me.”

“All these speeches, you’d figure the world was ending or something.” Varric added, testing his trigger. 

Alyn rolled her eyes.  She did feel better about it, even though her stomach still wreathed with anxiety about the fall out. “Thank you. Both of you. I needed that.” She flashed a brief, bright smile. “Do you want to tell Cassandra, Varric?” 

“Not on your life, Firefly.”


	4. Of Politics and Posturing

As much as she’d dreamed about adventuring, her real life adventure was far more terrifying than she’d ever imagined. Everytime she looked at Leliana, she could only see the gaunt cheekbones and the red eyes. She could only see the way she’d charged into the demons so she and Dorian could escape. She’d never wanted anyone to die for her, not in this world and not in any future to come. So. She’d simply have to make sure the future they’d witnessed didn’t happen. 

The problem was: She had no idea how to avoid it. She’d spent the morning sitting with Solas. It was calming, and he told her stories of the Fade. It took away some of the panic, let her mind wander far behind the walls of Haven as she jotted down his accounts in her journal. They were closing the rift soon, and she could pretend like the knowledge from the Fade would help her with the power. When Leliana asked for Solas’s assistance, she’d bid him farewell, making her way through the little village. 

She greeted the villagers, who had finally stopped their warship. Sure, there were still whispers, still stares, but now that they knew who she really was, they treated her as a human instead of a saint. A child running past distracted her. “Watch for ice!” She called, and then she gasped, running headlong into a very sturdy and warm body. “Oh, forgive me, I wasn’t paying atte-” She froze, hand resting on his breastplate. “Commander.” 

Cullen flushed, taking a step back almost a quickly as she did. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.” 

She found it hard to be nervous around him while he fumbled for words and flushed. Her lips twitched up despite her best efforts to keep the amusement from her eyes. “Why is it that we spend most of our conversations apologizing?” She tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face. His laughter made him even more handsome, and she didn’t need any other reasons to find him handsome. 

“I couldn’t say, Lady Trevelyan,” He said. “How are you recuperating after your trip?”

Trip. That was one thing to call it. “I wasn’t hurt, Commander. I’m alright.” Mostly. She shifted slightly, frowning. “I know you don’t agree with my choice, but I truly believe that it was worth it.” She snuck a glance up to his face, searching for anything to distrust, anything to make her angry. Angry was easier than this awkward friendliness.

“They’re settling in just fine. There haven’t been any major complaints, my Lady.” Cullen’s response was smooth, honest. “I was uneasy with the idea, but I respect your choice. Varric tracked me down and told me your logic behind it. All anyone can ask of a leader is to make the choice they think best.” He chuckled softly. “I admire what you did, Lady Trevelyan.”

“You admire me?” Alyn looked up at him with wide eyes. She’d have to thank Varric for having the courage- or maybe it was the words- to do what she couldn’t. 

“Yes, I er, I admire what you’ve accomplished. That is to say, I admire how much work you’ve put into the Inquisition.” Cullen fumbling over his words made her chest ache slightly, but not in the way she was used to. He cleared his throat, straightening up. “I think we are lucky to have you.”

“Even though I’m a mage?” Alyn teased him gently. “It’s good to know I haven’t completely mucked it up.” She chewed on her bottom lip. He was a good man, and it was obvious. She’d gotten to know Leliana and Josephine throughout their time together, and a large part of her hoped that she’d be able to do the same with Cullen. It was just difficult. There were so many memories to bury, for both of them. 

“I think because you are a mage,” Cullen said, raising an eyebrow. He must’ve noted her incredulous expression, because he continued. “I just mean that I don’t think anyone could have done what you’ve done.”

Alyn wasn’t sure she agreed, but she appreciated the thought. “Thank you, Commander. I couldn’t have made it this far without you. And everyone,” she added quickly, her own cheeks going slightly red. She opened her mouth to change the subject, but realized she had no idea how to proceed. 

Luckily, it seemed Cullen had some idea. “Have you heard from your family?” He gestured toward the path, and she fell in step with him. 

“I have. I received a letter from my father this morning, actually. My brothers are visiting. It’s safer in the Free Marches for them, and I think they’re worried about my parents.” Alyn sighed, shaking her head. “The fighting hasn’t quite reached them, yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“You said your brothers were Templars?” Cullen looked down at her, seemingly finding his voice now. It was obviously a subject he was more comfortable with. “I wonder if I’ve met them.”

“They are. Filibert and Killigan Trevelyan? Cassius works for the order back in the Free Marches, but he’s a researcher, not a Templar.” Alyn smiled fondly. She missed them. She missed them quite a bit. 

“Filibert...he has hair like yours?”

“Yes, and he’s very opinionated and loud? Usually picking fights where he shouldn’t be picking fights?” She sighed, shaking her head. 

“Enjoys blaspheming far too much for a Templar?” Cullen’s smile was honest, and Alyn laughed. She shook her head. 

“You’ve met him.” 

“I have. He’s a talented templar. He was one of the loudest allies to the Mages. I should have realized he had a personal stake in it.” 

Alyn’s smile died slightly on her lips, taking on a colder glint. “Well, he does try to do what’s right, regardless of his stake in the matter.” To suggest that he only fought for mages because she was one did him a disservice. 

“Of course. No, I didn’t mean any offense, Lady Trevelyan.” Cullen tried to back step, but Alyn waved him off, looking out over the town.

“Somehow, he ended up becoming a Templar at the Ostwick Circle a year after I was sent away. At the time, there was a wonderful batch of Templars working with him.” She missed that time. She’d been learning so much, and the Circle felt like a family.

“Do you think the Circles should be reinstated, Lady Trevelyan?” Cullen’s brown eyes searched her face, curious.

“That’s always a double edged question, Commander.” Alyn realized she was opening up far too much. She considered her next words carefully. Despite the fact that Cullen seemed to have no interest in the game, she knew that it was always being played. “I believe there were good things about the Circle, and with the right leadership, it could be a very powerful tool and a safe haven for Mages.”

“Is that not what it was intended to be?”

“No.” Alyn laughed coldly. “Well, maybe, but it was also made to control Mages, Commander. Control and contain, and in the last few years, it became little more than a padded prison for anyone with magical capabilities.” If she sounded bitter, it was because she was.

“I’ve seen Magic unfiltered, my lady.” Cullen’s voice was soft. “The results are often bloody.”

“We’ve all seen magic in the wrong hands. Just as we’ve seen blades in the wrong hands. Not all mages are fundamentally power hungry.” She clenched her jaw as she bit her tongue. “Mages are people. Templars are people. No one deserves to be locked away for things beyond their control.”

“Oh my, sounds like a spat. Should I come back later?” Dorian’s voice drifted over her, a welcome distraction. 

“No, Dorian. Don’t worry about it. The Commander and I were just having a political conversation.” She looked back to Cullen. “I got a little heated there. Forgive me.”

Cullen shook his head, thoughtful. “No apologies needed, Lady Trevelyan. I understand.” He nodded to Dorian. “I should return to my post. I- it was nice talking with you.”

“You too, Commander. I wouldn’t want to distract you from your work.” She inclined her head, taking Dorian’s arm. “Did you need me?” She watched a Cullen turned, unable to help admiring his form as he walked away.

“Always.” He followed her gaze and smirked. “Mm, see something you like?” His eyes glinted playfully. “There are worse ways to pass the time here.”

“ _ Dorian.” _ Alyn dragged her gaze away, giving him a little tug. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“And charming, handsome, and brilliant,” Dorian said. He flashed a brilliant smile. “How are you recuperating after our adventure to the future?”

“I’m glad you were there-”

“Obviously.”

“Because you knew what was going on.” Alyn rolled her eyes, amused. She really enjoyed Dorian. He was the perfect balance of sass and genuine concern. “I just hope we can stop it from happening.”

“You can.” He sounded so sure of it, and that made Alyn believe it a bit more. “You’ll shut the rift in the sky, we’ll celebrate with drinks, and history will be made. Then you and the Commander can continue your politics over drinks. Happy endings all around.”

“One thing at a time, Dorain. One thing at a time.” Alyn smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. She had to admit, it did sound appealing. 


	5. Of Confessions and Sacrifices

Music and laughter lit up the town. Haven was bursting with life as they celebrated the mending of the sky. Alyn watched, eyes soft. After everything they’d all been through, a night of celebration was deserved. She watched Varric and Cassandra bicker over Wicked Grace, the fire illuminating the amusement in their eyes. Bull and Dorian were eyeing each other with a mix of loathing and morbid curiosity. Blackwall and Sera and Josephine were probably all a bit more drunk than was healthy, but their laughter was infectious. Her gaze swept toward Leliana, Vivienne, and Solas, all deep in some conversation that Alyn was positive she wanted nothing to do with tonight. 

“Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” Cullen stopped beside her, watching the delights below them.

“They deserve it. It’s been an exhausting time lately,” Alyn said. She looked up at him. “Aren’t you going to join them?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He smiled, and her heart did the unpleasant flip flops again. 

“I’m tired, honestly.” She eased herself down on the steps. “And I can’t help but worry about tomorrow. We closed the rift-”

“You closed the rift.” Cullen sat beside her, the flames dancing in his eyes. 

“It was a team effort. I couldn’t have done any of it without...everyone.” She didn’t understand why she’d survived the explosion, but she was glad she had. She was grateful for each and every person she’d met, and maybe, maybe now they could keep being a positive force in the world. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Thank you, Lady Trevelyan.” 

A comfortable lull in conversation followed, and the two watched the party below them. She appreciated silence, especially knowing she couldn’t stand it as a child. Her childhood silences were filled with unspoken expectations. This was just comfortable. It was almost a shame when he filled the silence.

“I admire everything you’ve done, and I appreciate that you were willing to work with me, regardless of both our..pasts.” He didn’t look at her as he said it, apparently lost in memories that weren’t hers to touch. 

She touched his arm lightly, surprised by her own action. “What made you detest mages, Commander? If it isn’t too much to ask.” She met his gaze, curious and concerned all at once. 

He was silent for a long time, and Alyn feared she’d pushed too far. When he spoke, his voice was distant. “It is a difficult thing to recall.”

“You don’t have to, Cullen-” She realized it was the first time she’d called him by his name.

“I was a Templar in Ferelden. Do you- have you heard of the rebellion in Ferelden?” He looked to her, gaze flicking to her hand before moving to her face. She let it fall away, nodding. He continued. “I was one of the few to survive Uldred’s madness. Alone in that tower...the abominations...they were cruel and vicious. I nearly lost my mind. For a long time after that, my views of mages were less than reasonable.”

“They tortured you, so you hated them.” Alyn shrugged. “That’s not unreasonable, Commander.” 

“You can call me Cullen, Lady Trevelyan.”

“Only if you call me Alyn.” 

He smiled, returning to reality. “I suppose it isn’t unreasonable, Alyn. I’ve started reconciling with it. By partnering with the mages, I’ve seen more good from them than I ever thought possible.” 

“It’s good to grow.” Alyn looked down. “How long ago was that?”

“Years. I don’t think it’s something that I’ll ever completely forget.” He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. “I can try. These last few months with the Inquisition have been more healing than anything else I’ve tried.” He watched her. “When you spoke of your early years in the Circle, you sounded happy. What changed?”

“Why do I distrust Templars?” She smiled ruefully, noting his blush. 

“If you don’t want to talk about it…”

“No, no. It’s only fair.” She swallowed. “I was terrified when they sent me to the Circle. I was twelve, and my family was horrified by the idea of a mage in the line. I was afraid I’d never see any of them again. But, the Circle was inviting. I was in a place where my magic wasn’t a curse.”

“A place to belong. That’s one of the things I loved about the Templars. A sense of unity.” Cullen glanced up as a peal of laughter split the air. He relaxed a moment later.

“Exactly. The first Templars that were there with us were lenient. They were kind. I genuinely liked most of them, even the ones that kept their distance.” It ached to think about how good things were to start. 

“They rotated?”

“Yes. We were considered easy, so they sent starters to us. The next group…” Alyn shuddered. “I made myself a target.” She laughed bitterly. “Luna was the only young elf in the Circle. They picked her out as weak, and I stood up for her.” 

She glanced at him to see if he was still listening. If he was disinterested, she’d have an excuse to stop. He was watching her with undivided attention. Shit. 

“There were two that were particularly cruel, and took it upon themselves to show me my place,” she said. She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. “They were making people tranquils left and right, so I shouldn’t complain. At least I still had my mind.” 

“They threatened you with Tranquility?”

“Of course they did. I was a noble. I had  _ connections, _ and once they trapped me in that tower with them, they knew they had to keep my quiet.” Her lip curled. “For years, and I know I wasn’t the only one. I  _ almost _ had them all filtered out when the Circles disbanded.”

“How did you filter them?” Cullen’s voice, surprisingly, wasn’t filled with the pity she’d anticipated. 

“I got them promoted.” Alyn shook her head. “They were sent to bigger and better things, away from mages. I hate that they’re still out there, but I had to think about my family. I had to think about the Mages I could help.” She shook her head. “It was cowardly of me, but I just needed them far away from me.”

“That doesn’t make you cowardly. You were doing what you had to do to survive. You shouldn’t have been in the situation to start with.”

“I may have condemned others to the same fate I dealt with. I could have kept going. I could have-” There were furious tears in her eyes. “No one should have to live with that because I couldn’t any longer.”

“Alyn-” Cullen touched her shoulder, but he didn’t get the chance to finish. One of his men raced toward them.

“Commander, there is an army advancing on us.” 

Alyn sprung up, eyes wide. “What?” She felt Cullen stand beside her. The mood shifted as fire rained down on them. “Shit.”

“What banner are they flying?” Cullen shifted directly into soldier mode, his eyes hard and alert. 

“None.” 

“None?!” He swore. “Man the trebuchets!” 

“Get everyone inside!” Alyn ordered, yanking her staff out. She glanced at Cullen, heart in her throat. “We need more information-” When the front gate shook, a soft voice crying out for the doors to be open, she was already moving. From the moment the young man spoke, gesturing to the creature on the hill, everything blurred into spells and action. The town burned around them. Every time they gained an advantage, another wave followed. And a fucking  _ dragon.  _

She raced with the others, aiming shots over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked toward Cullen, and her stomach dropped. He looked resigned. “At this point, let’s just make them fight for it.” She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Behind the doors!”

She moved to follow...and then she heard the shouts. She looked quickly to the burning building.

“Alyn!” Dorian protested. “Where are you going?!”

“They need help!” No one else would die tonight. She wouldn’t let it happen. 

The flames were hot, so hot. She was bleeding, but she didn’t let it slow her down, as she passed injured along to the soldiers. She coughed into her arm, dizzy. She didn’t know how many she helped get out, but she saw the ones she couldn’t. It wasn’t until Dorian took her arm, pulling her into the chantry, that she let herself breathe. 

“You’ve helped all that can be helped,” Dorian said. He guided her gently, easing her into a chair. 

“Alyn, our positionings not good.” Cullen came forward, face drawn. “The dragon stole any time you may have won us.”

“I’ve seen an archdemon. I was in the Fade,” The boy said, still helping Roderick. That got Alyn’s attention almost immediately. She looked toward him, listening. “They didn’t look like that.”

“I don’t care what they look like,” Cullen snapped. “It cut a path for that army. They will kill everyone in this village.” Alyn held up a hand to quiet him. She already knew that. Now they needed to figure out how to avoid it.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Cole. I came to help.” He looked back to Cullen for a moment. “The Elder One doesn’t care about the village. He only wants the Herald.”

There was a collective intake of breath around the hall, their gazes almost hot as they landed on her. She closed her eyes. “I would gladly give myself if it meant sparing everyone else.”

“Herald,” Solas bit out. “That is a noble sentiment but-”

“We aren’t dealing with an assassin,” Dorian said. His voice was sharp, and Alyn knew he didn’t approve of her death wish either. “This Elder One doesn’t seem to care who he kills.”

“He wants to kill you,” Cole said. “But it wouldn’t stop him. No one else matters, and he would crush them anyway. I don’t like him.”

Cullen snorted. “You don’t like him?” He shook his head, looking back to Alyn. “There are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that would slow them would be an avalanche. We could turn all the remaining trebuchets toward the mountain-”

“And stop them in their tracks.” Was this where they were all to die? She let her gaze sweep over the hall, taking in the injured, the terrified. She felt ill. “It would bury Haven.”

“We’re dying, but we can decide how. Many do not get that choice.” Softening his voice 

did absolutely nothing for Alyn’s guilt. She nodded anyway, smoothing her fingers through her hair.

“Yes,” Cole whispered. He glanced over his shoulder before back to Roderick. “Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies.”

Maker, if Roderick could actually help, perhaps they’d allowed him to remain in Haven for a reason. She glared at the ceiling, silently asking the Maker why He allowed such suffering. As Roderick told them about the path, hope bloomed in her chest. She moved toward him, taking his hands. “I know we haven’t gotten along, Chancellor, but thank you. You may have just saved countless lives.” She looked up to Cullen. “Would it work, Cullen?”

“Possibly. If he shows us the path.” He looked like he wanted to reach out for her, but she was glad when he didn’t. She didn’t see a way out of this. “But what of your escape?”

Alyn smiled despite herself, looking away. She could feel Solas and Dorian bristling behind her. 

“You aren’t going alone. You’ll be overwhelmed in moments.” Dorian snapped toward her, eyes blazing. “You’re the Herald-”

“You are the only one able to seal the rift-” Solas tried to convince her, but she shook her head.

“The rift is closed. I am the only one that isn’t crucial to the Inquisition anymore. I’ll get the Trebuchets, but you’ve got to signal me. I don’t want to bury you all halfway through. I’ll stall them.” Somehow. 

“Perhaps you’ll surprise us,” Cullen said. “Find a way.” He barked orders, sending soldiers out despite her protests. “They’ll load the Trebuchets. You’ll need to set them off once we send a flair that we are past the tree lines. If you are to survive this- if any of us are to survive this, let them hear you.”

Alyn nodded, gripping his arm. “Thank you, Cullen. Get them out.” She turned, touching Dorian’s arm and then Solas’s. She smiled weakly to Varric and Cassandra. 

“Walk in the Maker’s light.” Cassandra’s voice was thick, and that took her off guard. 

“Be safe, my friends.” Squaring her shoulders, she slipped out the door.

* * *

Cullen watched her disappear into the burning town, his chest tight. She’d sacrificed so much for them already, and now he was sending her to her end. He would deal with the guilt later. 

“We aren’t actually going to let her do this alone, are we?” Dorian stalked up to him, dark eyes blazing. “She’s walking to her death!”

“And we are not wasting her sacrifice by bickering about it.” Vivianne. Always the voice of reason. “Make yourself useful, Tevinter. Help the injured out.” 

“There are sacrifices in war, Dorian.” Cullen looked to him, jaw tight. “We all knew this.” The words felt hollow. “We need to move, or we’re all going to be buried in the snow.” He turned, pulling one of the injured men up, easing through the path. It was rough going, but between assisting those less capable and planning ahead for camps, he was able to keep himself from leading soldiers back down to make sure the Herald wasn’t alone in her battle. It felt cowardly. It was possibly the most cowardly thing he’d ever done.

He realized he had no idea how old she was, whether or not she’d dreamed of life beyond the Circle. He didn’t know what her favorite color was, or if she was terrified of spiders or snakes or if she liked to take them in as pets. Did she want a family or did she want to travel the world? She was a human being, and he’d set her off like a pawn on a chessboard. 

“You did the right thing, Curly.” Varric hefted himself up a rock, looking up toward the peak of the mountain. “I don’t like it, but you did the right thing.” 

Cullen stepped back to let a few stragglers pass, throat tight. “It doesn’t make it easier.”

“If it did, you’d be a real dick,” Varric said. He glanced down the side of the mountain. “She’s made it through impossible situations before. Maybe we’ll get to the bottom of the mountain and she’ll be there waiting for us.”

Cullen chuckled. “Do you really believe that?”

“No, but it sounds like a good story. She’ll live in my next book.” He continued trudging. “I’ll treat her better than any bullshit songs the bards come up with.” 

Cullen didn’t doubt it. It still seemed a pathetic comfort. Blocking out the guilt and the remorse, he continued up the mountain. They were silent for a long while, the sounds of the injured groans and the squashing of boots filling the air. The flames from Haven crackled below them. So many lost. When he spoke, it was out of necessity, the treeline too close for comfort. She’d be buried alive, if she’d even made it to the trebuchets.  “We’ll need to bring her friend whenever we find a safe place.” He couldn’t remember her name, damn it.

“Luna. The little elf mage.” Varric supplied the name with a soft sigh. “That’s very big of you, Curly.”

“It’s the least we can do. Josephine will write to her family.” Cullen waited until the stragglers had passed. “Shoot the flair and continued down the mountain,” he ordered his men. “We need to put as much distance between the people and that beast as possible.” He watched the flair explode in the night sky. 

For a few moments, he swore the world stopped. Was there time to rush back to help get her out? Would they be able to dig through the snow to save her? When he heard the rumble, felt the mountain shake, he exhaled harshly. 

“She did it.”

Cullen looked toward the avalanche. “She did.” He closed his eyes, sending a soft prayer to Andraste. Protect her. 

By the time the group made it to the base of the mountain, the snow had settled. The camps were set up in short order, fires started- ordered to be kept low in case the army decided to come looking for them. They were displaced. They were cold. They were hungry and they were injured. And their hope had fallen under piles and piles of snow and fire. 

“Commander, may I have a word?” Cullen looked up, pulled from his melancholy. Cassandra stood before him, burrowed in heavy coats and thicker boots than she’d left with.

“Of course, Seeker.” Cullen stood, brow furrowed. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m going to look for her. Solas told me that her energy is still there, and that boy...the demon keeps muttering about the cold. I do not know if any of it means anything, but if there is even a chance…”

“I’m coming.” He didn’t hesitate. “Do we have extra blankets?” When she held out another coat for him, he took it, grateful. 

“There is a storm coming. We must move quickly or we will be lost to it.” Cassandra moved as she spoke. “If she was carried off by the avalanche, she’ll likely be around the northern front of the mountain.”

“You’re right.” He squared his shoulder. If she was alive, they’d find her. Maybe, just maybe she’d somehow beat all the odds. Maker knew if anyone could, it would be Alyn Trevelyan.


	6. Of Frozen Limbs and Songs

Cold. So cold. Alyn could feel it seeping into her bones. One step. One step. She didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to find a way. The mark glowed a dull emerald on the never ending blankets of white. Cold. She didn’t know it could possibly be this cold. 

Strands of deep red hair were painted white and frozen to the side of her face. One step, smaller and smaller. Was she moving uphill? Was she moving at all? Cold. If she ever found warmth, she was moderately sure she’d have to cut off all her limbs. That was funny for some reason. Maybe she’d get to cut the mark from her hand. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to fight fucking dragons and drag a mountain down on top of herself. 

Cold. So fucking cold. One step. “Embers.” She wasn’t sure if she was even speaking, her voice drowned out by the wind. They were warm. Could she curl up in them to sleep? She’d probably leach the heat right out of them. Another step. Was her foot frozen to the inside of her boots? Did she even have her boots on? 

The mark illuminated the mountain in front of her. One step. Her foot slipped, and she hit her knees. Maker help her, she didn’t have the energy to push herself up. 

“It’s her! It’s the Herald!”

Cullen? Now she knew she was dying. She was imagining voices. She was imagining his voice. Her lips twitched up, cracked and bleeding. When she slumped forward, the snow didn’t feel any different than the air. Cold. 

“Alyn.” His voice sounded so far away, and suddenly she was being lifted up, up, up. Warmth. Sweet Blessed Andraste, there was warmth. “You’re alive. Maker, how are you alive?” 

She wanted to laugh. Wanted to tell him she had no fucking clue. All she could do was let her cheek press against the soft material of his lapel. Warm. Alive. 

“I”ve got you. You’re going to be alright.” 

She believed him, and it was the last thing she thought before she embraced the sweet warm darkness her body desperately craved. 

* * *

 

She was alive. Somehow, against all odds- or was it divine intervention- Alyn survived. Cullen didn’t know what was coming next, but Maker help him, he had to believe the Inquisition would make it through this. It was all just a matter of figuring out what to do next. 

Apparently, unless the answer was shout at each other, they were no closer to an answer than they were before they’d found the Herald.  “We cannot stay here. If that dragon comes back-”

“No one is arguing that, Cullen,’ Leliana said. She glared daggers at him. “The problem is-”

“We are all aware of the problem! We need a solution!” Cullen wanted to rip his hair out. 

“Well, you haven’t suggested anything. Stop shouting at us!” Josephine snapped. She stalked away, and Cullen felt bad. He turned, grunting as he shoved his blade into the snow. Haven had been a devastating blow. They were all exhausted and mourning. It was no wonder nothing could get done. 

His gaze flicked toward the medical tent, his pulse picking up when he saw Alyn pushing herself out of the cot.

“I had faith. It didn’t save Haven.” Her voice was ragged, hard to hear over the fires. Andraste preserve him, she was blaming herself for the mess. He watched, noting the way her normally squared shoulders were slumped in defeat or pain- he couldn’t tell which. 

_ Shadows fall _

_ And hope has fled. _

_ Steel your heart _

_ The dawn will come _

Cullen let the melody rush over him, rubbing his neck. Did he go to her? How could he possibly convince her that none of it was her fault? 

_ The night is long _ __   
_ And the path is dark _ __   
_ Look to the sky _ __   
_ For one day soon _ _   
_ __ The dawn will come

Cullen tilted his head to the sky, praying for guidance. Praying for anything. 

_ The shepherd's lost _ __   
_ And his home is far _ __   
_ Keep to the stars _ _   
_ __ The dawn will come

  
He looked at her again, met her gaze. For a moment, he held it, but then a soldier passed in front of him and her eyes moved around the camp. He closed his eyes, joining in the song. When he opened them again, at the chorus of survivors adding their voices, they were kneeling before her. He moved, paying no mind to the look Varric was giving him, and knelt at the back. 

“Perhaps,” Leliana said, putting a hand on Cullen’s shoulder as Solas whisked the Herald away. “We should try again.” 

“You’re right. I apologize for shouting.” Cullen stood with a faint smile toward Josephine and Cassandra. “I think we should move North. Higher ground means a better vantage point.”

“But won’t that make us a bigger target for the dragon?” Cassandra sighed heavily, rubbing her nose. “I am not trying to be difficult.”

“I could send scouts ahead,” Leliana offered. “They will keep an eye out for the dragon and stop us if it’s visible.”

“I will send out a few letters. Perhaps we have made a few friends with nobles. We can try to purchase land.” Cullen didn’t have the heart to remind her that all of their assets were either burned or buried in snow and rocks. He nodded instead.

“We are going to need a leader,” Cassandra said.

“I don’t think anyone is going to disagree with that,” Leliana said. She looked to Cullen, something glinting in her eyes. “And I think we all know who our Inquisitor should be.”

“Would she be willing, do you think?” Josephine asked. She clasped her hands together. “She almost died tonight. It seems so much to ask.”

“I think we should wait to see if the Inquisition can even continue,” Cassandra said. “If there is still something to lead, then we will ask her.”

Cullen didn’t want to ask her. He wanted her to finally be allowed some sort of rest, because he knew Alyn would accept the responsibility without batting an eye. He knew there wasn’t anyone else that inspired so much hope in the people, no one that would lead with a level head like she would. There would be no one better for their cause. He nodded. 

“For tonight, we all need to rest. It has been an exhausting day.” Leliana bid them a goodnight, slipping away to her tent. 

Cullen looked toward Alyn and Solas, wondering what they were talking about. It wasn’t his business, of course, but...he wanted to know how she was holding up. He walked over, cautious. 

“Cullen,” Alyn said. There were dark circles under her eyes, but they gleamed with fierce determination. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt.” 

“We were just finishing, Commander,” Solas said. “Get some rest, Alyn.” Cullen winced as the elf glared icily at him when he passed. He probably deserved it. 

“Thank you, Cullen.” 

Taken aback, Cullen blinked at her. “You’re thanking me? For what?” He’d hardly done anything to deserve her thanks. If anything, she should have been tearing into him. 

“You were the one that found me, aren’t you?” Her brow furrowed, a hand moving to his lapel, barely touching the soft fur. “I could have sworn…”

“Oh. Yes. I did. I was. But you don’t need to thank me. I should say, we wouldn’t have needed to find you if I hadn’t-.” He stuttered over his words. “Damn it.  _ Words.” _

“If you’re trying to somehow say it was your fault I was at the base of that mountain, you don’t need to find the words. I would have gone with or without your approval.” Alyn let her hand fall away with a soft laugh. “But that is a noble sentiment, Commander Cullen.” 

“I should have insisted someone go with you. Any of your companions would have followed you to the trebuchets,” said Cullen. He could hardly deny that her words made him feel a bit better about it. 

“And then they would be dead, and you’d have something entirely different to be guilty about.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now, Cullen. I survived.”

“You did. I’m very glad you did.” Cullen realized what he’d said about ten seconds after the words were out of his mouth. His cheeks warmed. “We are all very glad you survived. Now, if we could find someplace for the Inquisition to go…”

“I’m glad you survived as well, Cullen. And everyone else.” Alyn fiddled with her hair. “Actually. I...Solas thinks if we continue North we might find something.” 

“North?”

“Yes. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?” And with her looking at him like that, smiling a genuine smile, Cullen realized he’d follow her just about anywhere. It was a startling realization. 

“Tomorrow we will head North.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, from here on out, things aren't going to be strictly cannon compliant. There's also some Sera/Alyn smut in the second half of the next chapter! As always, reviews are super appreciated! <3


	7. Of Friendships and Cures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things start to change from canon a bit. There's more adventure coming soon, and some Sera/Inquisitor smut in this chapter! I hope you enjoy!

Skyhold. It was beautiful and mysterious, and the energy within thrummed through Alyn’s

veins like fire. She loved it. It was every adventurous childhood dream come true. She’d spent the first week mostly avoiding everyone but Dorian. And the only reason she hadn’t avoided Dorian was because he’d made it impossible to avoid him.

She assumed he was afraid she was going to go off and try to kill herself again. Actually,

she didn’t have to assume. He’d told her. The sentiment was touching, and she genuinely liked his company. He told her of the Imperium, painted a different picture than she’d had ingrained from childhood. She didn’t harbor any sort of hope that life was all grand on the other side of the ocean, but listening to Dorian reminisce fondly did make her miss her home.

“Will you go back?” She curled her legs under her, quite fond of his little nook. This tower, well, it was better than the others she’d spent her life in. Her gaze lifted to his, curious and soft.

“To Tevinter?” Dorian looked shocked by the question. “Oh, eventually, I suppose. Once this Corypheus business is settled. I can’t very well abandon you with one of my countrymen carrying on about becoming a god.”

She laughed, patting the spot beside her. “But once it’s done. You flip back and forth between sounding like you despise it, and reminiscing like it’s the best place in the world.”

The Vint smiled slowly, joining her. “Just like you talk about your Circles?”

“Mm, you pay attention.” She nudged him gently, playful glint in her eyes. “But I asked you first.”

“Of course I pay attention. That’s my superpower. I dazzle people with my charm and incredible good looks while learning everything about them when they assume I’m nothing but a pretty face.”

“Mm, and good at deflecting.”

Dorian let out a bellowing laugh. “Alright, Cousin. I do love my country. I believe it can be truly great, but I don’t fool myself into believing that it is as grand as the magisters believe it is.” He sighed. “I left for...many reasons, Alyn. I was a bit extravagant.”

“You? Never.”

“Hush.” Dorian leaned back, resting his head against the wall. “My parents did not approve of my life choices, and I left. I never had any intention on returning, but after this. Well, lets just say someone- not naming any names- has taught me that one person can change quite a bit.”

Alyn felt heat rise to her cheeks. “I haven’t changed much, Dorian. It’s the Inquisition-”

“Oh, please. Nothing is less attractive than false modesty,” he said. He paused, looking at her with pursed lips. “I take that back, nothing is less attractive than knowing you’re actually that modest.”

“My _heart_ , Dorian. You don’t think I’m also stunningly beautiful?” Alyn clasped her hands to her chest in mock pain, laughing a moment later.

“Only second to myself. You ruin it with that disgustingly noble and honest air. We must be aloof, or we do idiotic things...like bringing a mountain down atop us.” Dorian gave her a look that could make weeds wither. “Which we will not be doing again.”

“Oh, not that again.” Alyn snorted, waving a hand. “Trust me, I’ve had enough mountains and snowfall for a lifetime. Next time, you can take care of the mountain.”

“Oh-ho! I don’t think so, Inquisitor. No more mountains, although, I don’t know if I mentioned just how worried and remorseful our commander was at the idea of you lying dead somewhere.” Dorian changed the subject quickly, and Alyn groaned, shaking her head.

“He felt guilty, that’s all.” She smoothed down her skirts. “Don’t give me that look.”

“You weren’t even looking at me. For all you know I was agreeing with you.” He scoffed at her, standing. “Let’s walk.”

“You weren’t agreeing with me.”

“I wasn’t, but you presume, and it will get you in trouble.” Dorian smiled slyly at her. “Tell me why you won’t admit you’re attracted to him?”

“Because I am a professional, thank you very much. And he...is a Templar.” Alyn clenched her jaw, pushing out into the fresh air.

“And?”

“And, I don’t have a very good...past with Templars.” She liked Cullen. She really, really did. He was sweet, even when he didn’t think anyone was looking. Particularly when he didn’t think anyone was looking.

“Well, he isn’t a Templar anymore. Besides, not all Templars are demons. Just most.” Dorian stopped her lightly, eyebrow raised. “Your brothers teased you when you were young?”

“Of course they did, but that isn’t why I don’t like Templars, Dorian.” The very idea was absolutely hilarious. As if teasing could make her afraid of something. “I know not all Templars. I know Cullen isn’t a bad man. I do. I like to think we’re friends.” She’d talked to quite a few that had left the order to join the Inquisition, and it was helping her see them in a better light.

“Then what is it?”

“Living in the Circles here wasn’t like in Tevinter,” she said. She wrung her hands, suddenly feeling a little clammy. “Please don’t make me talk about it, Dorian.” She pulled away, continuing across the walkway.

“Alright, I won’t, but I still think you should consider flirting with Cullen. He is rather sweet when he blushes.” Dorian was probably clever enough to figure it out, but he didn’t say anything. Sweet of him, really.

“Any romance in your life, Dorian?” She glanced over her shoulder, hoping to convey her gratefulness.

“Alas, my love life is as barren as yours. Cullen has me running a few errands while you’re on your next excursion. Perhaps I’ll find a lovely suitor.” His eyes glinted playfully. “Do be careful while you’re away.”

“So no more mountains?”

“For Andraste’s sake, no more mountains.”

* * *

 

She was so sick of the snow. Just once she wanted to travel somewhere with beaches and sun. Emprise Du Lion was particularly bleak. They’d recovered the orders that Cullen needed, which was all well and good, but the image of those villagers trapped in cages, pleading for release would stay with her. It had not been a good day, but, Maker help her, if she had to listen to Sera and Vivianne snipping at each other another moment she was going to break something.

One of the tents had been destroyed on the trip. Someone had to share.

“You and Ser Blackwall get along so well, Sera.” Vivianne had spent the better part of their trip back to camp trying to convince Sera to stay with Blackwall, but…

“He snores like a dragon, Madam Snooty Bits!” Sera patted Bull’s arms. “Sorry not sorry, big boy.”

Blackwall cast Alyn an amused glance. “That I do.”

“But I simply-”

“Enough,” Alyn said, rubbing her temples. “Sera, you’ll bunk with me. Lady Vivianne gets her own tent, and so does Blackwalll. Everyone okay with that?”

She was met with blank stares. “I didn’t think you liked sharing?” It was Sera that asked, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“I don’t, but I’m exhausted.” Alyn smiled weakly. “It’s fine.” She would have to warn Sera that she got night terrors. That was the only reason she hadn’t wanted to share in the first place. Now, she just wanted to sleep. She turned her findings in with Harding. “We’ll head out in the morning, but we should have men go ahead of this. Cullen will want to start working right away.”

“Of course, Inquisitor.”

“Thank you, Harding. I’m going to turn in. Wake me if anything happens, please.” She slid toward the tents, sighing heavily. When she stepped inside, Sera was completely naked lounging on her sleeping bag. Her cheeks warmed as she tried to avert her gaze. “Oh. Hey, Sera.”

“Hullo, your inquisitorialness. Whatsa matter? You never seen a naked woman before?” Sera giggled playfully before rolling her eyes and tucking herself into her sleeping bag. “Too improper for you?”

Alyn chuckled softly. “Not often. You caught me off guard, that’s all.” She sighed, tying her hair up and slipping out of her pants. She’d sleep with her shirt on, mostly because it was cold, but pants were another matter. “Won’t you get cold?”  
“Nah.” Sera peeked out of the blanket at her, eyes still glinting playfully. “Thanks for letting me share with you and all that. I didn’t want to stay with her royal pain in the arse anyway. She’d probably try and make me rub her feet or something.”

Trying not to laugh, Alyn slid under her blanket. “No problem. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share, really. I just...I should warn you, I have night terrors. I ran out of my tonic. If I wake you up, just shove me or something.” She didn’t bother praying she wouldn’t have one. She’d prayed to stop the thing that gave her night terrors, and that hadn’t worked. She doubted it would stop them.

Sera’s brow furrowed and she pushed herself up onto her elbow. “Like, nightmares? Bout what?”

“The Conclave...the Circle.” Alyn rolled onto her side to face her, arm tucked under her head. “I’ve had them forever. It’s nothing to worry about, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up with them.”

“The Magical Circle Mage Thing gives you nightmares?”

“Not the mages, Sera,” Alyn said with a sigh. “There were Templars…” She shuddered. “It was just a bad time, that’s all.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“You know the best cure for nightmares, don’t you?” Sera scooted herself closer, almost nose to nose with Alyn.

“I’ve tried all sort of things, but none have worked.”

“No, the _best_ cure.” Sera looked as serious as Alyn had ever seen her.

“What is the best cure, Sera?” She really wanted to sleep, but the prospect of curing her night terrors made her humor the elf.

“Sex.”

Alyn burst into laughter, rolling her eyes. “Considering the night terrors are _about_ sex, I don’t really think that’s an option.” She tugged the blanket to her chin, avoiding eye contact. Sera was quiet for a long moment.

“If you’re having nightmares about it, it wasn’t sex.” Sera rolled onto her back, looking up at the top of the tent. “Back in one of the villages, oh, shite, what was it...Oh well, doesn’t matter. One of the villages, when I left home, there was this bloke who grabbed me when I was walking at night.”

Alyn’s eyes went dark. “Sera, I’m sorry-”

“He didn’t rape me or nothing, but he groped me and took my money. I had those night terrors things for a little while. I was scared to let anyone touch me for a bit, but then a pretty lady in a tavern showed me that it was all good.” Sera looked at Alyn for a long moment. “I could show you.”

“What?” Alyn felt herself blush from head to toe.

Sera threw the covers away, moving toward Alyn. “We’re friends, right? You said the other day we were friends and all that mush.”

“We...of course we’re friends, but, Sera...I’ve never been with...anyone. I don’t know how.”

“Well, that’s why I’d show you, silly,” Sera sat on her haunches, grinning. “Might help you sleep. As friends, ya know? Just to make you feel a bit better. You’ve been real nice to me, and you’re a real lady and all that. If you don’t want to, we can just go to sleep, yea?”

Alyn looked at her for a long moment, debating. “We- you’d stop, if I asked you to?” She couldn’t believe she was even considering this, but the idea wasn’t unappealing. She didn’t have any experience, and she’d been so afraid of intimacy for so long. Sera, offering as a friend, was comfortable.

“Duh. I’m trying to make you feel better not worse.” Sera leaned forward, pressing a gentle warm kiss to her lips. “Give you some practice for the future, yea? You like girls?”

Alyn leaned into the kiss almost disappointed when Sera pulled back. “I like boys and girls.” She bit her lip, touching her jaw. “Thanks, Sera.”

“Don’t thank me yet! Wait till after.” Sera giggled, nipping at her bottom lip lightly. “Gotta try to keep quiet. The old man probably won’t mind-might even enjoy it-, but Lady Priss Pants might throw a tantrum.”

Alyn laughed softly. “I’ll do my best.” She was oddly excited, and when Sera leaned to kiss her again, she let the covers fall away. Her fingers slid into Sera’s hair, surprised by how soft it was.

Sera grinned against her lips, letting her hands flutter lightly down her sides. For a few minutes, they just kissed, soft, sweet and tender. Sera let her tongue flick into Alyn’s mouth, deepening it as she cupped her breast. Her thumb rolled against the peak of her nipple, making Alyn gasp as unexpected heat pooled in the pit of her stomach.

“Just like that, love,” Sera mumbled as she trailed her soft kisses down Alyn’s neck. “Want to take this off? Makes it a bit easier.”

Alyn fumbled clumsily, all her poise and her posture gone in an instant. She slid out of her breast band, another wanton sound slipping between her lips as Sera’s mouth slid over her. “Sera.”

“Good Sera or Bad Sera?” Sera asked, laughing as Alyn pressed her chest out, eager for the warmth again. “Okay, okay, I got it, pushy. Just checkin.” She dove back down, taking Alyn’s pebbled nipple lightly between her teeth. Her tongue flicked out, and Alyn’s fingers gripped Sera’s shoulders tightly, breath shaky.

It felt...wonderful. She suddenly wanted to touch every part of Sera she could reach. She let her head fall back as the elven woman worked her skillful tongue along Alyn’s hot skin. She dragged her nails through her hair, pleased by the soft response she earned. She did it again.

“You’re distracting me.” Sera dropped her hand lightly between Alyn’s legs, watching her face as she stilled under her. “Don’t stop. Gotta prove I’m the best, yea? Distractions and all.” She kissed down her stomach, gently, spreading her legs as she went.

Alyn took a deep breath, heart pounding in her ears as Sera dragged her small clothes away, kissing the inside of her thighs. She had no idea what to expect, but if it felt half as good as Sera’s mouth on her breast, she was excited. “You look so pleased with yourself.” She smiled down at her, still breathless. “Are you the best or not?” She felt bold, reaching down and tugging lightly at her hair.  

“Oh, you just wait, sweets.” Sera laughed manically as she lowered her head, breath tickling Alyn’s most sensitive area. She slid her tongue along her folds, and Alyn bit on her own hand to keep quiet. Sera did it again, this time, her smart tongue delving into her. She moaned. “Maker, don’t you taste sweet.”

Alyn flushed a deeper red. Dirty talk. She felt her arousal slick between her legs, and fought the urge to close her thighs together.

“Breathe.” Sera let her hand slid down, gentle as she slid a single finger into her, crooking her finger and hitting a spot inside of Alyn that had her seeing stars. “Yea, just like that, pretty.”  She dipped her head down, finding the sensitive little bundle of nerves in the course red hair. She traced Alyn’s clit with her tongue, slow and easy, keeping time with her steady movement inside of her.. And then all at once, she sucked her clit lightly, a second finger joining the first, pumping fast into the wet heat of Alyn’s cunt.

Alyn arched into her fingers, hips jerking in time with her. “Sera. Fuck. Sera.” Molten energy coiled in her stomach, building and building. Gone were any rational thoughts, stolen by Sera’s methodic onslaught on her senses. Sera’s free hand gripped her thigh, nails biting into her tender skin before she rubbed gentle circles a moment later. A third finger slid into her. There was so much, everywhere, all at once. Alyn moaned and sighed, gripping Sera’s hair.

“Come for me, sweets,” Sera purred against her skin, letting her teeth rake gently over Alyn’s clit. And that was all she needed.

Alyn’s toes curled, the tension exploding, leaving her gasping and clinging to Sera. “Fuck.” She went limp, lashes fluttering.

Sera grinned, pressing soft, playful kisses up her body. She examined the slickness on her fingers for a moment before sliding them into her own mouth. She sucked on them for a moment before pulling her fingers out of her mouth with a pop. “Good, yea?”

“Yea,” Alyn said. She leaned forward, kissing her softly. “Thanks, Sera.” She felt like she was floating, her movements languid. “How..I should...do you want-?” She started to try and shift up, but Sera’s slim hands gently pushed her back down.

“Nah, this was to help you sleep, remember? You can get me back some other time.” Sera tugged the blankets up. “Enjoy your glow and all that.” She situated the blankets so she could nuzzle up against Alyn.

Alyn coiled her arms around her, warm and sated and happy. “Thank you, Sera.” She was repeating herself, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to think of any other words.

“Hush up and go to sleep.” Sera smirked against her skin. “Making me get a complex.”

Alyn remembered laughing, and then she remembered nothing else as she drifted off. For the first time in as long as she could remember, there were no terrors in her dreams.


	8. Of Friendship and Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and the comments. They keep me going <3 Keep em coming please. Also, sorry for the delay! I've been busy with the Holidays, but you can all expect some Cullen/Alyn cute moments next chapter, and then Cullen/Alyn smut in the chapter after that! Things are pretty much veering away from Canon at this point. Onward!

“Commander, you said you wanted to see me?” Solas slid into the tower, nodding in greeting toward the soldiers in the room.

Cullen looked up, welcoming him. “Yes, Solas. Thank you for coming.” He sent his men away, with quiet orders. “Walk with me?” He headed toward the door, letting out a soft breath. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. Skyhold’s reparations were coming along nicely, and with Josephine’s efforts, their numbers were rising every single day. There was still so much that needed to be done. Corypheus was also gaining followers at an alarming rate. 

He glanced toward the Elf, half tempted to ask him if he’d been communicating with Alyn since she’d been off adventuring. He decided against it, instead focusing on the matter at hand. “The Inquisitor mentioned that the artifact Corypheus wields is elven.”

“Yes,” Solas said. He looked out over skyhold. “I told her everything I knew. I trust she passed that along to you?”

“She did. Leliana has her network looking into it, but I think we should also take a practical approach.” Cullen pursed his lips. “I want to find a way to counteract the orb’s ability.” He knew he was acting for a miracle. 

“What ability is that?” Solas watched him, his gaze piercing. Sometimes, he made Cullen feel like he could read minds. It was very unsettling.   
“The ability to open new rifts. If we can combat that, perhaps we can gain some sort of advantage over him.” Cullen rubbed his neck. “If you think it is possible, I hoped you would research when you are able.”

Solas was quiet for a long moment. “I hadn’t considered that, but...perhaps it would be possible. It is ancient magic, Commander. I doubt we could completely nullify its effects.”

“Anything at all could give us the upper hand.” Cullen wasn’t sure what all the orb or even Corypheus could do, but from everything they’d seen, it was nothing good.

“It is worth a try,” Solas said. He leaned against the wall. “I think the key lies in the anchor in the Inquisitor’s hand. I’ll have to ask her to let me study it farther.” He shook his head. “She surprises me more with every passing day.” His eyes flicked to Solas’s face, contemplating quietly. 

“Leliana mentioned that you two knew each other before the conclave?” It made him suspicious at first. Two apostate mages with a connection to the explosion? It was such a coincidence. 

“In a way,” Solas replied softly. He shook his head with a rueful laugh. “We’d never met physically, but she is also a Dreamer. I happened upon her in one of my journeys. Even before she had the anchor, her energy was hard to miss.”

“A Dreamer that passed her Harrowing.” It took considerable discipline to pass the Harrowing, but with the added connection to the Fade and near constant exposure to demons he couldn’t imagine resisting.

“Mm,” said Solas. “She’s a remarkable human. I did not expect to get along with her so well, or to respect as many of the choices that she’s made.”

“You stayed. Even with all the distrust. Why?” Cullen watched him carefully. “Because of Alyn?”

“Because Corypheus is a threat to everyone. What good would I do to abandon a cause where I can be useful?” He chuckled. “Not because of Alyn. I enjoy her company and her energy, but that alone would not have kept me here. I suspect many people come as I did. For the cause, but they will stay because of her leadership.”

“I believe you are correct.” Cullen closed his eyes. “I just hope we aren’t asking too much of her.”

“She raises to every challenge she faces, but she is only mortal. Mortals make mistakes.”

Cullen felt a prick of aggravation. “She hasn’t yet.”

Solas blinked. “I assure you, Commander. I don’t doubt her ability to lead. I simply think we should not put her on a pedestal for her own sake. She takes defeat to heart, and she fears disappointing everyone. It is important we remember that she is human. She cannot survive based only on the good opinions of the people she leads.”

Cullen relaxed slightly. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” He raked his fingers through his hair. He looked toward the gates, smiling as they opened. “I’m hoping having her friend here will at least put her mind somewhat at ease.” 

“Her friend?” Solas followed his gaze, his serious expression melting into a smile. “Luna.” He stepped back. “That was a very kind gesture, Commander.”

Cullen shrugged one shoulder. “Luna will be safe here. Having her away probably worried the Inquisitor.”

“It did.” Solas stepped back. “I will start my research and get back to you as soon as I find a course of action.”

“Thank you, Solas,” said Cullen. He turned, heading down the steps. 

“Cullen!” Dorian’s voice was cheerful as he walked toward him, an arm slung around a slim elven girl. She looked to be a few years younger than the Inquisitor, with pale eyes and paler hair. She was almost lost in The Iron Bull’s shadow as he loomed behind her, laughing and joking with his team.

“Dorian.” Cullen greeted him with a faint smile. 

“You didn’t tell me there were Templars here.” Luna’s voice took Cullen off guard. It was rougher than he expected. He sighed. After what Alyn told him, it wasn’t surprising that she distrusted Templars.

“Ex-Templar,” Cullen said.

“This is Commander Cullen. The man I was telling you about?” Dorian’s voice was earnest. 

“Hello, Luna.” Cullen extended his hand, trying for a bright smile.

Luna looked him over with wide eyes, sticking close to Dorian’s side. She hesitantly reached out, shaking his hand. “Hullo. Is Alyn here?”

“Not yet. She’s expected back tomorrow. We’ll get you settled in and comfortable until she arrives.” Cullen pulled his hand back. “Was the journey comfortable?”

Dorian scoffed. “We were on horses for hours. What part of that sounds comfortable?” 

Luna giggled softly. “It wasn’t so bad. I’d never ridden before.” She looked around, awed. She was still avoiding moving any closer to Cullen. “This place is huge.” 

“I don’t know about you, but I could really use a bath.” Dorian stretched, glancing over his shoulder at Bull. If Cullen didn’t know any better, he’d say he was trying to show off for him. 

Luna hesitated. “Can we look around first?”

“I could show you around,” Cullen said. “Or I could show you to your room.”

Luna looked at him, and for a moment, he saw a bit of Alyn in her eyes. She was trying to read him. “I’d like to see everything. Alyn’s told me so much about this place in her letters. And about her friends. And you. She just didn’t mention that you were a templar.”

“Ex,” Dorian supplied helpfully. He patted her shoulder. “If you need anything, I’m never far, darling.” 

“Thanks, Dorian,” Luna said, smiling up at him. “And thank you, The Iron Bull.” She craned her neck up to look at him.

“No problem, kid.” Bull beamed down at her. “You ever want more lessons about self-defense, you give me a shout.”

Cullen gestured forward. “We’re closest to the stables. If you liked the horses, perhaps you’d like to see the others?”

Luna’s entire face lit up. “Yes, please.” She started walking, occasionally glancing up at him. “You’re aren’t  _ that _ tall.”

“Pardon me?” Cullen raised an eyebrow, affronted. He wasn’t short, but his height was a tender point. He was shorter than many of the other men in his infantry. 

“Alyn told me you were tall, but she’s almost as short as I am, so I guess everyone seems tall to us.” Luna smirked slightly, still taking everything in. 

“She...mentioned my height in a letter to you?” Cullen wasn’t sure why the idea made him flush, but, Maker, he could feel the heat in his cheeks.

“Oh yes. Alyn tells me everything.” Luna paused, stopping dead in her tracks so quickly that Cullen nearly tripped over her. 

“Something wrong?” He stepped back, not wanting to crowd her.

“If you ever encourage her to topple a mountain down on herself again, I’ll take your fancy shawl and make you eat it.” Luna smiled pleasantly. “That’s all.” She continued walking again.

Cullen blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “I’ve no intention of- of course I won’t. She- okay.”

“Good. Now, where are the horses?”

* * *

 

Alyn slid off her horse, stretching her legs out as she looked at the grand doors that lead into Skyhold. It had been a ridiculously productive trip. She knew that Varric and his friend would be arriving tomorrow, so all she could think of was falling into her soft bed. She hoped that Sera’s therapy session kept the nightmares away for a long while. 

“I hate horses,” Sera grumbled. She shoved off the horse, loping an arm around Alyn. “Home sweet home, huh red?” 

“Mhm.” Alyn smiled, ignoring the look Vivianne shot her. She didn’t really care if she approved or not. Probably a bad decision on her part, but Sera was a good friend. As much as she respected Viv, she wasn’t going to make every choice based on her desires. “Thank you. All three of you. This went very smoothly.”

“Of course, Darling. I appreciate the time you took to find the information for the Circles.” Vivianne’s long strides left her talking over her shoulder to them. She disappeared up the stairs without giving Alyn the chance to respond.

“She’s pissed,” Sera said. She smirked, shaking her head. “Maybe I should try to fuc-” She laughed as Alyn elbowed her in the side.  
“I imagine she’ll get over it.” Blackwall rubbed his neck. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

Alyn’s cheeks were inflamed, and Sera’s cackling wasn’t helping. “Thanks, Blackwall.” She could have gone her entire life not knowing that they’d both overheard her. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Inquisitor. If you need me, you know where to find me.” He waved, and she swore she heard him chuckling as he headed toward the stables. 

“Sera.” 

“Don’t tell me you regret it. I’ll kick you if you tell me you regret it.”

“I don’t regret it.” Alyn laughed, touching her arm. “Not at all. Thank you for it. I...it was really nice.”

“Really nice? That’s it? I made your eyes cross, I did.” Sera crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. 

“It was  _ fantastic _ , Sera,” Alyn said. She grinned at her. “Really fantastic. You’re the best. I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

“Aren’t I?” Sera grinned. “Give you some practice for your Commander.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Bet he won’t be as good as I am.” 

If Alyn wasn’t blushing before, she certainly was now. She shoved her a bit. “ _ Sera.  _ I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t. Not a clue. You’ll have to tell me about it, yeah?” Sera started walking backwards toward the pub. “You know, once you stop being so damn dumb.” 

“Goodnight, Sera,” Alyn said. She shook her head, amused.

“If you want more eye crossing, give me a shout, yeah? Or even just a cuddle.” She shouted across the yard.

“ _ Goodnight, _ Sera!” She shook her head, pushing the door open. Making her way toward the war room, Alyn pulled the files out of her bag, flipping through them. She was surprised to hear voices, assuming everyone would have been off to bed or dinner. She pushed the door open. “A bit late war table talk, isn’t it?”

“You’ve really fought dragons before?” Luna asked, watching Cassandra with rapt interest. 

“Luna?”

“Alyn!” The elf bounded up, throwing her arms around her. Alyn couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe it. 

“Luna!” She laughed, wrapping her in a hug tightly. She pulled away after a moment, touching her cheek. “How did you get here? What are you doing here?” She laughed again, pulling her back into a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Me either! Cullen sent Dorian and Bull to get me. It’s a surprise for you!” Luna grinned, turning. “They’ve all been showing me around. You’re late, Alyn Trevelyan. You’re never late.” 

“We ran into bandits. Cullen, you did this?” Alyn looked at him, heart in her throat. Luna was safe. She’d spent countless hours worrying about her, wondering if she were safe. Now, she didn’t have to worry.

“I thought she would be safer here, Inquisitor.” Cullen rubbed his neck, smiling slightly. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She wanted to kiss him. She wouldn’t, but she wanted to. It was just because she was thankful. That was all. 

“You never told us that your brother taught you how to fight, Alyn,” Cassandra said, a rare hint of teasing in her voice. “Luna shared many stories about you.”

Alyn groaned. “Oh no. Oh, no. I take it all back. Back to the woods with you, elf.” She squeezed her hand, shaking her head. “That was years ago. I’ve forgotten most of it.”

“Cullen said he’d work with us both,” Luna said. She beamed, light eyes bright. “I thought you’d like to show off.”

Alyn covered her mouth to contain her laughter. “Oh, did you?” She looked at Cullen, smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “I’m not sure you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Commander.” 

“I look forward to finding out, Inquisitor,” Cullen said. He laughed softly. “I think we’d all better get some rest for now.”

“I agree.” Alyn held the papers out to him. “About Samson.” She moved toward Luna again. “Where are you staying?”

“Your room tonight.” Luna grinned up at her. “We’ve got so much to talk about.”


	9. Of Greetings and Withdrawal

Alyn made her way to the tower, shivering slightly. Was it chilly or was she simply frozen to the bone from all the cold trips. She tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders, not sure what to expect up the stairs. Varric had a friend. Everyone suspected  _ someone, _ but no one was telling her anything. She listened as soft voices drifted down from above her. Varric’s she recognized, but there were two others. 

She turned the corner, smiling politely. “Varric?” She looked the other two men over, head cocked to the side. The first man smiled easily, his brown eyes bright, forehead creased with laugh lines. Red paint was smeared over the bridge of his nose and his brown hair lay over his shoulders, shaggy and unkempt. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Alyn! This is Garret Hawke, otherwise known as-”

“The Hero of Kirkwall,” Alyn said. She felt a shiver run up her spine. She held her hand out. “It’s an honor to meet you, Hawke.” 

He laughed, shaking her hand. “People keep saying that. I’m not sure I deserve it. Especially considering who you are. The Herald of Andraste, hmm? Your name trumps mine.” 

“I got my title because of dumb luck. You liberated so many people.” So many mages. Alyn felt like a little girl meeting her idol. It was strange to realize he wasn’t that much older than she was. 

“Alyn, don’t feed his ego,” Varric said. 

“You’ll make him impossible to live with.” At his voice, Alyn looked up at the second stranger, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to sound quite as...hard as he did. His pale hair hung in his eyes, ears poking through the very top, but of course, that wasn’t the most noticeable thing about the elf. No, the most noticeable thing were the beautiful patterns of blue streaking across his skin. She could feel the energy they gave off. The look he was giving her made her want to leap over the side of the banister, though. 

“Alyn, this is Fenris. Don’t mind the sullen glare. That’s just who he is.” Varric chuckles. “A real charmer.”

Alyn held her hand out to him. “Hello, Fenris. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She waited, surprised when he didn’t take her hand. Hawke winced, looking as if he wanted to say something, but Varric spoke first.

“Fenris, she’s not going to bite you,” Varric said.   
“No, that’s alright,” Alyn said, letting her hand drop with a faint smile.She would never think to criticize someone for not wanting to be touched. “Welcome to Skyhold.”

“Thank you,” Fenris said, still eyeing her warily. He kept glanced toward Hawke, as if making sure he was still there. The two’s movements were..connected somehow. Like there were invisible strings between them. She smiled, making the connection. 

“Anyway.” Hawke’s lips flicked up into an easy grin that put Alyn immediately at ease. The stories didn’t do him justice. “You’ve really got a mess on your hands, don’t you, Inquisitor?”

Alyn laughed, shaking her head. “An understatement. I trust that Varric told you everything that’s been going on?”

“In great detail,” Fenris said. He smiled dryly, shifting toward Hawke again. 

“Ouch, Broody.”

Alyn laughed softly. “You weren’t embellishing, were you, Varric?”

“He mentioned that you single handedly fought off a dragon, dug your way out of an avalanche, and seduced half of your companions.” Hawke wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Wouldn’t tell us if you managed to talk him out of his pants, but-”

“Varric!” Alyn’s cheeks were flaming again. “None of those things are true.” 

“At least half of those things are true,” Varric replied smuggly. “And you know my pants are hard to get off, Hawke. You managed to get Fenris out of his and they’re ungodly tight, so if you couldn’t do it-”

“Why are you looking at my pants?” Fenris narrowed his eyes at Varric, almost baring his teeth. 

“Why are you looking at my boyfriend’s pants, Varric?” Hawke chuckled softly, sending Fenris a reassuring glance. 

“Boys?” Alyn smiled despite herself. “As lovely as Fenris’s pants are,” she ignored the soft growl from Fenris, “I think we’ve got a few...serious things to discuss?” She hoped Varric trusted her as much as he trusted these two, or that he could someday. Their comradery was beautiful. 

“Sure, sure,” Hawke replied. His expression dampened slightly. “We’re dealing with Corypheus again. Never thought I’d have to say his name again.”

“Varric told me you fought him the last time?” Alyn’s voice was soft, almost desperate. “How is he alive?”

“Magic.” Fenris spat the word with such venom that Alyn felt the hair on the back of her neck raise. His eyes flicked to the glowing anchor on her hand. She shifted, letting her sleeve hide it. 

“Yes, yes, magic,” Varric said, waving a hand. “But we don’t know what sort of magic. He was dead.”

“Dead, dead or..probably dead?” Alyn raked her fingers through her hair, exhaling.

“Poke it with a stick and it doesn’t move, dead,” Hawke said. He grimaced. “We made sure he was dead dead.” He shook his head. “I have some contacts. A grey warden. He might have some information.”

Alyn nodded. “Will he come here?”

“No, he’ll want to meet somewhere. It will take me some time to find him. I’ll let you know when and where we can meet.” Hawke smiled at her, warm and genuine. “I know being a hero is exhausting. You don’t have to take on this thing alone.”

“Thank you, Hawke. Truly. I’ll take any and all help I can get.”

“Apparently,” Fenris muttered, looking away. 

“What does that mean?” Alyn looked affronted.

“Don’t mind him, Firefly.” Varric sighed heavily. 

“Don’t speak for me, Varric.” Fenris glared at the dwarf. 

Luckily for Varric, or maybe for Alyn, a fifth voice headed off the tension. 

“Alyn, I’ve found more information on- Oh, forgive me. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Cullen paused halfway to them, eyes wide when he saw who all was there. 

“Knight-Captain?” Hawke blinked a few times. “Wow.” 

“You two know each other?” Alyn tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, smiling up at Cullen. She was starting to feel out of the loop again. 

“We met briefly. Years ago.” Cullen shifted, glancing at Varric. “Cassandra is going to murder you.” He cleared his throat. “I should probably...leave you to it.”

“I think we were just finishing up, actually. Got to get these two a room so they can rest.” Varric slapped Hawke on the shoulder. “Maybe we can all get in a game of Wicked Grace in before we split up to find your contact.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Hawke said. He turned to Alyn, still smiling that easy smile. “It was great meeting you, Herald. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.” He turned to Cullen. “It’s good to see you’re doing well.” 

“You, too.” Cullen shifted, glancing away, and Alyn had to fight the urge to ask him if he was alright. Instead, she turned to Fenris.  
“Please, make yourself at home. If you need anything at all, just let me know,” she said. She offered a small smile when he nodded in thanks. Well. That was something at least. 

“Keep warm, Firefly.” Varric patted her arm as he passed, leading the two men down the stairs. Leaving Alyn and Cullen alone. 

She cocked her head to the side, clearing her throat. “You said you had more information on Samson, Cullen?” Talking to him was easier now, she found. Whether it was because of the Chess game they’d played before she’d left for the mission or because of everyone’s gentle- or not so gentle- nudging, she couldn’t be sure. Luna talked for hours about how much she enjoyed Skyhold and all of the people in it. She was there, safe, because of the man before her. 

“Yes. Er, the papers you brought me, they were very helpful.” He paused for a moment. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“We were finished, Cullen. You worry as much as I do. It can’t be good for your health.” Alyn shivered as a cold breeze whipped around the bricks. “What did you find?”

“We’ll have to destroy his armor. I think Dagna could offer useful insight on the matter.” He cleared his throat again. “And I spoke to Solas about finding a way to combat the Orb that Corypheus wields.”

“Good. I’ll talk to Dagna,” Alyn nodded, shifting her weight to her heels. For a moment, an awkward silence settled between them, which was odd. Their silences weren’t usually awkward. 

“Cullen, there’s something I’ve got to-,” she said at the same moment Cullen spoke.

“Alyn, we never got the chance to-.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I interrupted you.”

“We interrupted each other.” Alyn touched his arm. “I just wanted to thank you again, for bringing Luna here. It means so much to me.”

“Of course.” His eyes were soft as he looked down at her. “I’m glad you’re happy, and I’m glad she is safe.”

“So, what were you going to say?” Alyn didn’t move her hand, biting her lip as she stepped ever so slightly closer to him, heart thudding almost painfully in her chest.

“We- I mean you, that night at Haven. We never got the chance to...What I mean to say is that…” He scowled, wiping his hand lightly down his face. “ _ Words.” _

“I know what you mean, Cullen,” Alyn said. Now she let her hand drop away. She didn’t like to remember that night. She’d been very vulnerable, and vulnerability wasn’t something she usually allowed. “I don’t know that there was anything to add to it, honestly. I understand, now, why you distrust mages. You’ve earned it, and I am so sorry that...that those monsters hurt you.”

Cullen blinked rapidly, and this time he reached out, catching her hand. “I was going to say the same to you. If you give me their names, I will find them, Alyn. I’ll make sure that they can’t hurt anyone else ever again.” He opened his mouth to continue, but Alyn didn’t care to hear anymore. His words made her head spin with hope and admiration. 

In one fluid motion- she’d have to thank Sera for showing her how to do it-, she pressed herself onto her toes, kissing him softly. Her hand moved to his cheek, and for a moment, she was afraid she’d read all the signs wrong, because he froze. Then, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, a large hand sliding into her hair. She smiled against his lips, pulling back after a moment to take a breath. “Thank you, Cullen. Thank you.” She almost laughed at the slightly dazed look in his eyes. 

His fingers moved to her jaw, gentle. “I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I care to admit.” He chuckled softly, letting his forehead rest gently against hers. “It seemed unfair to even believe…”

“What? That I wanted to kiss you back?” She laughed with him, no longer aware of the cold wind. “Apparently everyone else has been placing bets on us, Commander.” 

“I heard,” Cullen said. He shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Is this...is this something we should...I mean-”

Alyn pulled back slightly, nodding her head. “Yes. Yes, I think it is. Even if it’s just...to see where it goes. I like you, Cullen. Very much.” Her eyes glinted playfully. “Even though you’re an ex-templar.”

“And I like you, very much, Alyn Trevelyan. Even though you’re a mage.” His smile made her heart start doing acrobatics again. “If you’re sure, then I’m sure.”

“I’m sure, Cullen. We can...explore this and still do our jobs.” Alyn touched his cheek again. “But for right now, I’d be very happy if you kissed me again.”

He flashed a brilliant smile that creased the corners of his eyes, leaning down. “I think I can manage that.” 

 

* * *

 

There were some days when everything inside his head built and built, a cacophony of rage and terror that threatened to spill out of his ears. His blood craved the warm glow of lyrium more than he’d ever thought he could crave anything. It made him angry. It made him bitter. “Cassandra, I thought we had an understanding. I said I can’t-”

“We do have an understanding, Cullen,” Cassandra said. The level of patience in her voice made him want to punch something.

“Then why are you insisting-”

“Because I know you can continue. You are invaluable, Cullen. I will not replace you unless it is necessary. It is not necessary.” She shrugged one shoulder.

“Cassandra-” Cullen’s head snapped toward the door as it opened, saving Cassandra from circular arguments. His heart sank when he saw Alyn. Fuck. He didn’t want her to see him like this. “We’ll continue this discussion later, Seeker.” He tried for a smile as he passed her. “I’m sorry to rush off. I’ve got some work that needs my attention.” His veins screamed, echoing the memories in his head. He rolled his shoulders, pushing out into the biting air. 

He needed it. He needed it to do his job. Fuck. When he was clear headed, he wanted to be free of it. He’d spent the better part of his life a slave to lyrium, and he didn’t want to be anchored to the life he’d lived before. He wanted a clear mind. He wanted control of his facilities. And he didn’t want to go mad.

Slamming the door behind him, Cullen moved to his desk, tugging at his hair. It felt like he was already mad. Leaning down, he pulled out that damned box. His chest heaved as he considered his options. His personal demons, that sounded disturbingly like the abominations from the tower, raged in his head, battering his skull like a drum. With a soft growl, he kicked his chair.

“Cullen?” 

Her voice washed over him like a bucket of ice water. Closing his eyes, he tried to control his breathing. “Inquisitor.” Why did he sound angry with her? He wasn’t angry at her. He let out a low breath. “Alyn.” He sank into his chair, head in his hands. “I will not give the Inquisition less than I gave the Templars. I should be taking it.”

She moved toward him, graceful as ever. Her hand moved to his shoulder. “Cullen, look at me, please.” 

He couldn’t say no to her, even then. He almost growled at the nagging voice that suggested she had him under a spell. Instead, he looked up at her. “I should be taking it. I can’t be the commander you need if I’m not taking it.”

He knew that as a Circle Mage, she probably knew what he was talking about, and he was glad for it. He didn’t want to explain. When she touched his cheek, he leaned into the touch, eyes closed. “I should be taking it.”

“Cullen, what do you want?” 

He wasn’t expecting that question. It made him open his eyes to look up with her. Her voice calmed the demons somehow, giving him a moment of clarity. “What I want doesn’t matter, Alyn. I need to be able to serve the Inquisition to the best of my ability.” He wasn’t expecting her to laugh. His expression must’ve shown his surprise.

“I’m not laughing at you, Cullen,” she said. She paused. “Well, not in a mocking way.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of his desk, her gaze flicking to the box beside her. “What you want, what you need matters. This will all end someday. Corypeus. The Inquisition, even. What you want- what you need for you is just as important.”

He looked away again, trying to believe her. It sounded too far away. “But if we lose-”

“We won’t, Cullen. On the lyrium or off the lyrium, you are the only person who can do this job. You’re brilliant with your men. They respect you, and you’ve yet to lead us astray.” She paused, leveling him with that intense stare. “What do you want, Cullen?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, honest. “The withdraw. It’s- I’m so angry. It’s like fire. I can’t think when it gets bad, and my nightmares…” Cullen shuddered, taking her hand. He stroked her wrist gently. “But I don’t want to be its slave. I don’t know what to do.”

She pulled her hand back, taking both his cheeks gently between her palms so he had no choice but to look at her. “Then we’ll get you through this. You don’t have to suffer alone, Cullen. I don’t understand exactly what you’re going through right now, but I do understand nightmares.” She leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss to his forehead.

He smiled despite the gravity of the situation. He didn’t understand how she managed to inspire so much hope in the Inquisitions followers and still managed to have time for him. “Thank you,” he said. He covered her hands in his own. 

“It seems like half of our conversations are us thanking each other, hm?” She stood, letting go of his face and holding her hand out. “Come on. Let’s get some fresh air.”

“I think I’m alright now, Alyn.” He knew she had more important things to deal with. She’d only just gotten back from her meeting with Hawke and the Grey Warden. They had a battle to prepare for. They always had so much to do. “I know you’re busy.”

“We’re all busy, Cullen.” She smiled, that warm, open smile he witnessed that day at Haven. He’d finally earned it. “I think we’ve earned some time to ourselves, Commander. Everything will still be there when we get back.” 

He still had that fire burning through him, but the roar had died down. It wasn’t a bad episode. He knew they’d get worse, but he’d take the relative peace. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right. Remember that.” She shot him a look that made his cheeks warm. Maker’s breath, this woman. She gave his hand a small squeeze, tugging him toward the wall. She looked out over the mountain.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me, Lady Trevelyn,” he said, for once managing to not make a bumbling fool out of himself.

“I have been for a while, Commander Rutherford,” Alyn said. She turned, but not so quickly that he couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks. “Badly, but flirting nevertheless.”

“I have also been flirting.” He frowned. That was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever said, but she laughed, so he wasn’t worried about it. He moved behind her, wrapping his arms lightly around her waist. When she tensed, he started to withdraw.

“No. Sorry. Old habits.” She rested her hands on his arms, leaning back into his embrace. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

He liked this. This quiet and comfortable conversation. “We are.” He pressed his lips to the side of her head, her hair tickling his nose. 

“I think I like it,” she said. She closed her eyes, head tilted up. 

Cullen smiled, holding her tightly. “Me, too.”


	10. Of Promises and Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Cullen Smut for Christmas! I probably will get one more chapter up before the New Year, but I wanted to thank you all for your kudos and comments! If you feel like dropping any more I'd be very appreciative! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I hope you, dear reader, have a wonderful season.

“Watching them makes you happy, but also afraid. What if they don’t come back? What if they get hurt on your orders?”  
Alyn dragged her gaze away from Varric, Hawke, Dorian, Sera, and Bull, who were all bullshitting over drinks and cards. When her gaze landed on Cole, she smiled weakly. “It’s a little unsettling when you do that, Cole.” 

“People say that a lot. I can make you forget it that would be better,” he said, those bright blue eyes innocent and honest.

“No, that’s okay. You’re right.” She took a quick sip of her water, giving herself a moment to gather her thoughts before she continued. Although, she knew that Cole probably knew everything she was about to say. “Tomorrow is a big battle. I’m just worried about them.” All of them. If it was anything like they’d seen with the other Grey Wardens, it would be a hell of a fight. 

“That’s why they’re having fun now.” He looked thoughtful as he let his piercing gaze sweep back to them. “They drink now, to remember each other. To remember the good when it gets bad. Does that work?”

“Sometimes. Don’t you remember good things when you’re afraid?” Alyn asked. She liked Cole, despite Cass’s worries and Vivianne’s disapproval. He was sweet, and everything about him pushed her to do as much good as she could. His entire existence seemed to be formed around his need to help people, and sometimes, she wondered if there was any way she could do the same for him. 

“I don’t really think of anything when I’m afraid. I just try to change what I’m afraid of. Is that wrong?” 

“No, not wrong,” she said. She touched his hand gently. “Just different. There isn’t anything wrong with different.” Even when she didn’t completely understand it. “I have a favor to ask you, actually.”

“You want me to make sure Luna is safe.” His brow furrowed as he looked at her. “I just don’t know how to do that.”

“Could you stay here with her? She wants to come, and I don’t want her to be anywhere near the fighting.” Alyn knew that she’d throw a fit. She’d claim that since she’d been training with Cullen, she’d know how to defend herself. 

“But then I couldn’t watch after you.”

That caught her off guard. “Cole, you don’t need to look after me.”

“But we all do anyway. You would be happier if I stayed with Luna. You’d feel safer. I’ll stay.” He sat back as if it were settled. He could be so still sometimes, Alyn wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t a statue when he sat up on the walls. 

“Thank you, Cole. It does make me feel better,” she said. She glanced at her drink, brow furrowed. They all looked after her. It shouldn’t have been surprising to her. After all, they were a team. It made her heart ache to think about it. 

Cole suddenly cocked his head to the side, lips tugging down into a frown. “He’s always afraid when he goes into battle. Haven’t they already asked enough of him? What will he do if he doesn’t come back?”

“Who are you…?” Alyn glanced over, following his gaze. Fenris sat in the back of the pub alone, nursing what looked to be ale. Maybe whisky. There was no question of who he was thinking about. His eyes were locked on Hawke, laughing and carrying on with the others. 

“There was pain and loneliness. Revenge and  _ fear _ . What if all I ever am is a slave? Then there was him. He made it-” Cole stopped when Alyn touched his hand again. 

She smiled slightly. “I don’t think you’re supposed to share those thoughts, Cole. It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.” 

“Hawke is one of us now. We look out for us.” He glanced up when Varric called for him. “He’s going to teach me how to play.” 

“Go on, then,” Alyn said. She smiled, nodding toward Varric in thanks before heading toward Fenris. She couldn’t quite get a read on him, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t understand what he was feeling. Cullen and all of her friends would be at that battle. There was always fear. “Mind if I join you?”  
Fenris looked up, blinking away the cobwebs of his thoughts. He was slow to respond, appraising her carefully. After a moment, he nodded. “By all means.”

She pulled out the chair beside him, watching. “You don’t partake in Varric’s Wicked Grace obsession?” 

“I also don’t really partake in small talk, Inquisitor.” There was a hint of dry amusement in his voice, and it made Alyn laugh.

“Sorry. Thought it was a better ice breaker than ‘Cole read your thoughts and I know you’re worried about Hawke.” Alyn leaned back, watching him.

“It can read thoughts?” His lip curled as his head jerked toward Cole across the room.

“He. He can read thoughts. I think just emotionally charged ones, yes.” Alyn chewed on her lip lightly. “I’ll make sure that Hawke comes back to you, Fenris. I know how much you’ve both done for Thedus. For all of us. You didn’t have to come, and I’m grateful for it.”

Fenris sat back, gaze thoughtful and guarged. “I didn’t want Hawke to come.”

Alyn blinked, letting out a soft breath. “Because you don’t want to lose him?”

“Because he was walking into a vipers’ den,” Fenris said. He took another little sip, watching her carefully. “You’re a mage. You’ve done nothing but recruit mages.” His gaze flicked toward the group again, resting on Dorian’s back. 

“You obviously don’t like mages,” Alyn said. She winced when she realized there was acid in her own voice. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Hawke’s a mage, isn’t he?” 

“He’s the exception.” 

“Was it a mage that gave you those tattoos?” She could feel the energy vibrating from him. At first, she’d assumed he was a mage, but the longer she’d been around him, she’d realized that it wasn’t his magic. It was magic attached to him, yes, but not from his blood. Not directly linked to the Fade. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to ask.

Fenris shot her a look that made her hair stand on end. “Not that it’s any of your business, Inquisitor, yes.” This time, Alyn was sure there was animosity aimed at Dorian’s back. “A dead mage who spent his last remaining years hunting me down to retrieve the marks from my skin. So, no. I do not like mages.”

Alyn felt some of the tension leave her. Now she understood. “That sounds awful. I’m sorry.” She feared and distrusted Templars for hurting her, and she’d never been a slave. He’d been owned by a mage. The distrust was warranted. 

“I don’t need your pity, Inquisitor.” Fenris lifted his glass but did not drink. “Regardless, we are here.” 

“It isn’t pity, Fenris,” Alyn said. She leveled him with her own glare. “You are, and you are welcome to stay after the battle, provided you can put up with the magic use.” She’d do quite a bit to make people comfortable, but the majority of her army was composed of mages.

“I’ll stay as long as Hawke stays, and it will be difficult to tear him away until this is finished.” He set his drink down, clasping his hands together on the table. 

‘Stubborn?” She wasn’t sure if she was talking about Hawke or Fenris himself. Perhaps both. 

“Ridiculously so,” Fenris replied tersely. He shook his head. “It’ll get him killed someday, I’m sure.”

“Not today. Not tomorrow, either.” Alyn brushed her hair out of her face, lip quirking up. “I already told you I’d make sure he comes back to you. I meant it.” She paused, considering. “And even if you don’t trust me to bring him back, Varric will be with us tomorrow.” 

Fenris nodded once. He looked at her for a long moment. “I may not trust you, but you’ve earned the loyalty of Varric. That means something.”

Taken aback, Alyn could only laugh. “Really? Varric seems to be friends with everyone.” 

“Being someone’s friend does not mean that they respect you or are loyal to you.” 

“Fair enough,” she said. She glanced toward the Dwarf, still smiling slightly. “I don’t think he would have dragged Hawke into this unless he trusted me. I don’t intend to make him regret that choice.” 

“Good,” said Fenris.

They both looked up as one of Cullen’s men paused at their table. He spoke formally, “The Commander would like you to come to his office, Lady Inquisitor.” 

Alyn’s heart jumped to her throat and she pushed away from the table. “Is he alright?”

“Yes. He’s fine. He just..wanted us to ask you to come see him.” The guard shifted, coughing weakly to hide his discomfort. “If you are indisposed…” 

“I’m sorry to run, Fenris,” Alyn said. Her mind raced with worry. Was it a Lyrium fit? Was it something about the battle tomorrow? 

Fenris just nodded. “I understand.” He glanced at Hawke again. “I’ll call it a night, anyway. Varric and Hawke can goad each other into drunkenness far too easily for us to stay any longer.”

“Thank you, Fenris.” And then she was gone, moving as quickly as she could without looking like a lunatic. He needed her enough that he’d sent one of his men to come and find her. Assuming the worst, she didn’t bother knocking, pushing the door of his tower open. What greeted her wasn’t anything she’d expected.

Cullen’s normally dark office was lit by dozens of candles, casting the room in soft light. He’d cleared the normal clutter from his desk and replaced it with a tablecloth that even Dorian would approve of. There were a few platters with cheeses and a bottle of wine perched carefully on top. And then there was Cullen himself, standing behind the table without his usual attire. He looked down right casual, and Alyn repressed the urge to jump him then and there. 

“What...what is all this?” She touched her heart, feeling her pulse start to calm. “I thought you were in trouble.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. “Oh. No! No. I’m sorry.” He moved toward her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I mean..” He gestured behind him cheeks warm. “I wanted to surprise you.” 

Alyn couldn’t believe him. This impossibly sweet man standing before her was  _ apologizing  _ for setting up a candlelit dinner. She covered her mouth and her giggle, shaking her head. “Cullen…”

“I understand if you’re too tired. Tomorrow is an important battle, and I don’t want to..distract you if you have other things to prepare for. I was just worried that we wouldn’t have the chance to...Maker’s breath, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Alyn moved toward him, silencing him with a kiss. She coiled her arms around him, smiling against his lips. “Stop,” she mumbled. “It’s perfect. It’s wonderful.” She pulled back, touching his cheeks. “You didn’t have to do this, Cullen. Is that…” She gasped pulling back and reaching for a piece of cheese. “Is this Ostwick cheese? How did you…?” She plopped a cube in her mouth, groaning happily.  
“I had Josephine order some last week. You like it?” He smiled, leaning back to watch her. 

“I love this cheese. My mother used to get it for her guests, and I’d sneak third helpings when no one was looking.” She leaned against the desk, eyes bright as she looked over him. “I like this look, Cullen. You look comfortable.” She reached out, gently pulling him toward her. 

“I am comfortable,” He said. When he looked at her, she swore she would explode with adoration. She reached up, running her hands lightly down his chest. “You’re worried about tomorrow?”

He exhaled. “I am worried every time you go off to fight another monster.” His hands moved to her cheeks, callused and warm. She nuzzled into his hand, her heart racing all over again. He was so..breathtakingly sweet. Sometimes, he was so gentle she wanted to cry. 

“I can take care of myself, Commander.” She shifted to grab another piece of cheese, placing it on her tongue with a coy smile.

Cullen’s adam apple bobbed as he watched her, something darkening in his eyes. He dragged his gaze away from her lips, and she smiled. “That doesn’t mean that I won’t worry. Would you like some wine?” He shifted away from her, and she mourned the loss of his warmth. She wondered when she’d stopped fearing the touch of others- his touch-, and instead craved it. 

Summoning all her courage, she stood, tugging him back and kissing him again. There was need, a fire burning in her belly that spread to the tips of her fingers and the bottom of her toes. They could both die tomorrow. She wouldn’t waste another moment being afraid. She ran her hands down his chest, admiring the tight muscles under her finger tips. “Wine later,” she mumbled against his lips.   
She felt his hesitation give as he gripped her waist. When she dropped soft kisses down his neck, nipping softly, teasingly at his pulse point, he let out a soft groan that made Alyn’s lips quirk up. “Show me your room, Cullen?” She hoped he wanted the same thing.

“Are you sure?” Cullen sounded as if he’d never wanted anything more in his life. 

“I’m sure, Cullen. I want you.” And she meant that with every fiber of her being. 

He smiled, and suddenly she found herself lifted into his arms, his lips crashing down against hers again. She raked her fingers through his hair, biting at his bottom lip. She wasn’t sure how they managed to get up his ladder, but she found herself on his bed, fumbling with her shirt. Why were there so many  _ ties _ ? She glanced up, breath catching in her throat. He was beautiful. Lean and strong.  _ Golden _ . He looked angelic. Her gaze dropped down to the V just below his abs, light blond hair trailing to…Maker. She resumed her frantic struggle with her shirt. 

His hands stilled her, gentle. “There’s no need to rush, Inquisitor.” He slid onto the bed, more sure now than she’d ever seen him. His lips left pricks of heat on her skin as he trailed them down her neck, skilled fingers undoing the complicated knots of her shirt. He let the material fall away, following the trail with his lips. She was mesmerized, her hands moving to his shoulders, tracing a scar she found. 

“Someday, you’re going to tell me about these scars,” she said, her voice soft, breathless. She leaned forward, kissing the dark, jagged patch of skin. 

Cullen chuckled against her skin, sliding his hands down her sides, dragging her trousers down. “Someday. But not right now.” He caught her lips again, the passion a slow burn on the tip of his tongue. Alyn smiled into the kiss, shimmying out of her pants, leaving her with only her small clothes. 

She pulled back, trembling as she reached to undo her breast band. She groaned happily as her breast were freed from their constraints, heavy and full.  “I hate that damned thing.” 

“I think you should never wear it,” Cullen said, dipping his head down to lavish her breasts with soft kisses. She wove her fingers into his hair, gasping and arching into his mouth. 

“That would make it really difficult to fight demons. They’re a hassle.” She moaned softly as he did something with his teeth that made her toes curl.

“A hassle? So I should ignore them?” He pulled back, an ornery glint in his eyes.

“You bastard,” Alyn said. She laughed. She didn’t know this could be so...carefree. So fun. She dragged his lips back up to her own, brief. “I love you.” She didn’t know what possessed her to say it, but she found once she had, that she meant it. She looked up at him, watching the words register. 

His eyes widened in shock first, but the shock melted into something warmer, something soft and warm. He took her jaw, thumb brushing along her lip. “I love you, too.” He kissed her again, and she felt her heart soar. She let her hand slide between their bodies until she found the proof of his arousal. He groaned against her mouth as her slim fingers wrapped around his length. “You’ll be the death of me, Lady Trevelyn.” 

Alyn smirked, tentatively stroking him. He was thick, thicker than she’d guessed even looking at it. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but Maker, she was eager to find out. “I need you.” 

Cullen growled softly, kissing down her body. “Then you’ll have me.” He hooked his fingers in the band of her small clothes, dragging them over her hips. He kissed the inside of her thigh, gently spreading her legs apart. His brow eyes flicked up to her, held her gaze as he ran his tongue lightly along her slit. He groaned again. “Maker, you’re so wet.” 

“Cullen,” Alyn gasped, reaching to grip his hair again. She quivered as fucked his tongue into her heat. “Please. Please.” She needed...she didn’t know what she needed. Him. All of him. She gave his hair a little tug, dragging him back up to her. “I want...I want…”

“Tell me what you want.” Cullen’s voice was low, breathy. He looked like a general in that instant, in charge, in command. It made goosebumps erupt down her arms.

“You. I want you. Please. I need you.” She writhed under him, trying to hook her legs around his back, but he held her hip down with a grin. She narrowed her eyes, reaching a hand between them again and stroking her finger around his leaking head. “Please, Cullen.”

“Whatever you want,” he said. He shifted, lifting her legs up so they rested against his shoulders. He gripped his cock, sliding it teasingly against her wet warmth. The act made her stomach tighten and her head fall back.

“Please.”

He eased himself into her, slowly, allowing her to adjust to his girth. With a moan, he fully sheathed himself in her heat, gripping her legs as if to anchor himself. “Fuck.” He rutted against her for a moment, glancing down to make sure she was alright.

“For Andraste’s sake,  _ move.” _ Alyn wiggled her hips, making him hiss in pleasure. He obeyed, withdrawing nearly all the way before pressing back into her, again and again. He gripped her close, groaning softly, brow creased with concentration. 

She met every thrust, clawing at his arms, trying to drag him deeper, harder, faster. He consumed her every sense, heat building and building in her core. When he reached between them, thumb gliding along her clit, it was all it took for her to come undone. She cried out his name, shuddering as stars exploded behind her eyes. 

His thrusts became erratic, breathing harsh as she clenched around him. “Alyn,” he breathed. And then again, her name like a prayer  as he stilled inside of her, hips stuttering. 

When he collapsed beside her, she turned, curling to his chest and basked in the afterglow. “I love you.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so loved and cared for. So ridiculously warm. 

He held her tight, smiling against her hair. “I love you, too.” For a moment, they were quiet, enjoying the hazy aftermath of love making. 

Alyn giggled after the lull, voice thick with the temptation of sleep. “Wine and cheese for breakfast?”

His laughter vibrate through his chest. “Wine and cheese for breakfast.” He paused. “I’d better go blow out the candles, though.”

“No, don’t leave.” Alyn closed her eyes, a soft breeze drifting through the tower. The glow from downstairs faded, the candles doused. 

“I guess there are perks to magic, hmm?” Cullen let his head rest against the pillow again, his fingers mussing through the soft tangled hair.

“Goodnight, Cullen.”

“Goodnight, Alyn.”


	11. Of Battles and Sacrifices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So. I know it's been a really, really long time since I've posted, but...here we are!

The smell of smoke, sulfur, and the metallic tang of blood hanged heavy in the air. Cullen swung his blade, grunting as he cut the man down. A templar. One of the men that Cullen had once served beside, once trained with. He clenched his jaw, looking up with a wry smile. “The Inquisitor has cleared the siege points! Advance!” He heard Cassandra repeating his order across the field. There seemed to be a brief lull in the demons. The rift was rebooting. “Be ready.”

He dragged his gaze back toward the battlements.  Andraste, keep her safe. He surveyed the area, jaw tight. “Lady Vivianne, we’ve secured a location for the wounded. Get them there.” As she moved to do as he ordered, Cullen wiped his brow. It had been a terrible fight, but the Inquisition had the upper hand now. Perhaps this would end in their favor.

“We are about to have another wave.” It was the elf, Fenris, that called to him. He nodded his thanks, bracing himself as Pride demon fell through the rift. Cullen swore. Wonderful. Just what they needed.

He watched Fenris spring into action ahead of the other soldiers, Dorian at his back. With a growl, he launched himself into the fray, ignoring the electricity buzzing through the air around him. “Left!” He ordered, rolling away from the whips that zizzled past his ear.

They moved with him, Dorian shouting, “Aha, I could do this all day!”

“I’d rather we didn’t,” Fenris growled.

“I second that,” Cullen said. He raked his memory for weaknesses, slamming his blade through the giant’s arm. It roared in pain, swatting at him, but Dorian’s fireblast brought it to its knees.

“Its defenses are down!” Dorian said. He blasted it again as Fenris leapt upon it, his marks glowing. Cullen swung his blade again. This time, when the demon fell, it did not rise again. He let out a breath. “Nice work.” It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. It was ruined by the sound above them.

“Shit,” Dorian said, and somewhere across the battlefield The Iron Bull let out a whoop of delight. The dragon swooped low, blasting everything in its path. If flew low, trailing something. There was no doubt what it was circling.

“Alyn.” Cullen moved before he could think about it. “Get more support to the Inquisitor! Cassandra!” His head spun as he searched for her. “That beast must be stopped.”

“I am taking Sera and Bull, Commander,” Cassandra called, already slicing her way through those in her path.

“Cullen!” Dorian’s voice stopped him. “You can do more here than you can there. There is another wave of demons coming through! We must hold them off!”

He was right, damn it. Cullen knew he was right. Closing his eyes, he offered up another plea to the Maker. He had a job to do. He and Alyn had agreed that their feelings for each other could not get in the way of their work. He turned to fight, and fight he did. The wave seemed to be never ending, or maybe that was just his anxiety and fear for the Inquisitor.

He was wearing thin, knew that his men were wearing thin. It had been a long battle. He chanced a glanced toward the tower, and what he saw made his heart stop. The building was toppling. He felt Fenris stiffen beside him.

“Hawke!” He took off running before Cullen could stop him. After a beat, Cullen ran, too. They were falling. He could see the bright red of Alyn’s hair as she scrambled up the building. Solas reached for her, Varric reached for Hawke. They’d die if they fell from that height. Fenris was still screaming Hawke’s name over and over again, as if that could suddenly give him wings.

Cullen felt utterly and completely hopeless as he watched the rest of the bridge topple, her entire party falling through the air. “No.” He couldn’t save her. She would die as he watched. And then, she shifted in the air, her hand reaching out. He stumbled back as the energy of the sky ripping open blasted over them. They tumbled into the glowing green mass before it promptly disappeared.

“Fuck!” Fenris dropped to his knees, clutching the red band tied to his wrist. For the briefest of moments there was near silence over the field. The rippling energy left a horrible chill all over Cullen’s body. The fade.

“They’re in the Fade.” Hope was painful when he didn’t have anything solid to hold onto. He moved to Fenris. “They’re in the Fade. The Inquisitor took them to the Fade.”

“That’s fantastic,” Fenris said, his voice ice cold and sharp. “Trapped in another world isn’t much better than _dead,_ Commander.”

“It’s much better than dead,” Cullen snapped. He felt the shift. “Get up. We have to hold off the demons. They’ll find a way out.”

“This wasn’t our fucking fight.” Fenris lifted himself to his feet slowly. “We should never have come.”

Cullen’s lip curled, eyes going dark. “You are here, so help us or leave.” He pulled out his weapon. Alyn would get them out of the Fade. She’d done the impossible before. He could feel Fenris’ cold glare at his back. He ignored it.

It seemed as if many of Corypheus’s army were fleeing. He spotted Wardens fighting by their side. “Get the wounded back to Skyhold,” he ordered one of his men. “Send search and rescue to the keep. I only need a handful of men at the rift. We’re going to wait for the Inquisitor and her company.” He chanced a glance back at Fenris, gaze hard.

The elf’s marks glowed as he stood, knives out. “You want to fight? Let’s fight.” There was murder and grief in his eyes that reflected the terror and fury in Cullens. He nodded and they leapt into the battle once again.

Cullen lost track of how many demons fell through the rift. Their numbers were rising, as if pushed out by an invisible hand determined to send them away. Still, they fought. Dorian’s triumphant cries had become grunts of effort and strain. In the brief lulls between waves, Sera paced, muttering to herself and making Cullen want to tear out his hair. What if they truly weren’t coming back?

And then, suddenly, they were falling through one by one. Solas, Blackwall, Varric-

“Hawke!” Fenris finished the demon off with a quick burst of energy before running to him.

And then she stepped out and suddenly he could breathe again. She moved quickly, and he knew she wasn’t hurt. Beyond that, he found he couldn’t read anything on her face. She was wearing the mask she’d arrived at Haven with. It unsettled him. He’d gotten so used to be able to know how she was feeling, that it automatically concerned him that he couldn’t tell anymore. She sent demons flying, faster than Cullen could blink. And once they were gone, she held her hand up and sealed the rift. He could only watch in awe as the others rallied around her.

“Where is Warden Stroud?” Someone’s voice drifted toward her, and he noticed, for the first time, that not everyone had come back through the rift. His gaze flicked to the Inquisitor. There. He saw something. For a split second agony flashed through her eyes.

“Warden Stroud died a hero.”

 

* * *

In the flurry of activity following the Inquisitor’s emergence from the Fade, Cullen didn’t get the chance to talk to her. She gave the debrief of the situation stoically, letting Solas and Blackwall do most of the talking. Varric had disappeared with Hawke and Fenris, and the others were helping the wounded. 

Somehow, she got swept away from him, and, he noticed, she managed to avoid Dorian and Sera, too. They were both left trudging through toward Skyhold at the back of the entourage. Cullen moved toward them, jaw clenched. “Did you talk to her?”

“No. Did you?” Dorian kept trudging, looking absolutely exhausted. 

“She’s avoiding us,” Sera said. She rolled her eyes, hanging onto Dorian’s coat tails as they moved through a particularly deep patch of snow. “Something happened in there and she went all closed up again.” 

“You might have to sleep with her again, Sera,” Dorian said, trying to keep his voice low. 

Cullen’s brow furrowed. “What?” He’d thought those were just rumors. Huh. 

“Nah, not that type of closed off anymore,” Sera said. She shook her head. “Can’t blame her with all that demon freaky magic shite.” She glanced up at Cullen. “Besides, she’s got Cullywully now.” 

“Mm.” Dorian looked at Cullen long enough to make him squirm. “I’ll talk to her once we get back to Skyhold.” 

Cullen had exactly the same idea, but things were just as hectic back at Skyhold. He found himself strategizing with Leliana and Josephine for the entire night. By the time he made it to his room, he barely had time to register how cold his bed felt without Alyn beside him before he was suckted into the darkness of sleep. 

The next day, half awake and desperate for a warm cup of something, he anticipated seeing the Inquisitor in the war room. When she wasn’t there, he assumed she was taking a well deserved rest. With every hour that passed, however, he couldn’t shake the increasing ball of anxiety in his stomach. She was nowhere to be found all day. 

The shadows were growing longer and longer in his office as he scored over the plans for  the royal palace. With a groan, he sat back, unable to focus on the words any longer. Maybe he would just knock on her door, make sure she was alright. That seemed awfully intrusive. Perhaps he’d wait until tomorrow. If she wanted to be alone, how could he deny her that? 

“She won’t let me help her. I can’t help her.”   
Cullen automatically reached for his blade before he realized it was Cole. He blinked. “What are you talking about?”

The boy had tears on his cheeks. “She won’t let me in her rooms. She won’t let anyone in her rooms.” He paced beside Cullen’s desk, tugging at his hair. “The Fade isn’t safe anymore. The Fade was her  _ safe _ place. Not a place of fear or death. It’s ruined. It’s all ruined. Should have stayed behind. Should have-”

“She’s in her rooms?” Cullen cut him off, heart breaking in his chest. 

“Never wanted this. Never wanted to be a  _ savior _ .” He was looking at his left hand, eyes distant. “It  _ hurts. _ ” He mimed gripping something with his right hand, and Cullen didn’t need to see any more. 

He bolted down the steps, pushing open the doors and ignoring any and all looks of anyone he passed in the hallway. Never mind the fact that he probably looked like a madman, he raced up the spiraling staircase to her room. As soon as he reached the top, he was assaulted with the scent of whisky. For a split second he debated knocking. 

Clenching his jaw, Cullen pushed into her room. The sight before him broke his heart. His beautiful, strong Alyn curled against the wall, her hair sopping wet, her robe clinging to her shivering form. An empty bottle of whisky strewn on the floor beside her, another quarter empty bottle set carefully to the side. There was a knife in her right hand, the tip pressed to her left palm, the pulsing green light beneath it and a wet trickle of blood dripped down her wrist. 

“Alyn,” Cullen said, his voice soft as he moved toward her. Her head snapped up, eyes bloodshot and swollen. Carefully, oh so carefully, he took the hilt of the blade, pulling it from her fingers. Her hand fell limply to her lap as the sobs wracked her body again.

“Go away,” she said, voice ragged and broken. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” She hiccuped between her words, raking her fingernails down her palm.

Cullen took her hands gently in his own. “I am not going anywhere.” He’d never seen her take a sip of anything before. It was a wonder she was still awake. “Talk to me, Alyn. Please. I want to help.”

She pulled her hands away, pushing herself up and stumbling away. “You can’t help. I should be in the Fade. I should have fucking stayed.” She stumbled, but he was there to catch her, brow furrowed. 

He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t even understand why she was feeling this way. “Why? Why should you be in the fade?”

“I left Stroud there to  _ die. _ ” She was limp against him, the sobs starting anew. “I killed him. I should have stayed instead, but I had to close this fucking rift. I have to kill more people.” 

Now he understood, and his heart broke anew. With great care, he lifted her into his arms, moving toward the bed. “Alyn, look at me.” He tilted her chin up as soon as she was on the bed so she’d have to look at him. Those big green eyes, filled with pain and guilt. He stroked some of the damp hair out of her face, tender. 

“It should have been me,” she said. 

“No.” Cullen caught her chin again. “We need you here. Stroud chose to stay. That isn’t your fault. We couldn’t do this without you.”

She jerked her head away, curling up on the bed. “Because of this damned thing on my hand.” She closed her eyes, and Cullen suspected the room was spinning. 

He raked his fingers through his hair, wishing coal had been able to give him some advice. He moved behind her, gently wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, eyes closed. “Not because of the mark.  _ I _ need you, Alyn. Like this.”

“A sobbing wreck?”

“Alive.” Cullen slid his fingers through her hair, completely oblivious to the fact that they were both soaked. “Strong or feeling broken, I don’t care. Alive and safe in my arms. You’ve been thrust into this situation, and you’ve done more than anyone could have-”

“Don’t. No. You or Leliana or Cass could have led. I’m  _ nothing.”  _ She rolled, burrowing into his chest, her words slurring.

“You’re everything.” Cullen continued playing with her hair, listening to her breathing even out, the sobs slowing. “Everyone respects you. None of us could do what you’ve done, but that isn’t the point.” 

“What’s the fucking point?” she grumbled against his chest. 

“Even without the Inquisition, you’re needed. When you fell into the Fade, I tried to imagine life without you, and I couldn’t.” He shuddered at the memory, still fresh and painful. “And it isn’t just me. Dorian? Solas? Sera? Everyone else. We all love you. Not because you’re the Inquisitor, because you’re you.”

“Stroud died because I”m me.”

“Stroud stayed in the Fade because it was the right thing to do,” Cullen said. “He chose to stay.”

“I couldn’t leave Hawke,” Alyn lifted her head, speaking as if it was the most important thing in the whole world. “I couldn’t. I promised Fenris. I  _ promised _ him.” She mumbled more into his chest, but he couldn’t hear, but her voice gained strength again. “They need each other. They’re like..two...pieces of a...of a...machine. Hawke is too important.” 

He cradled her close. “Can’t you see that you’re that important, too?” Maker, if only he could let her see herself through his eyes. Hell, through anyone else’s eyes. “I need you like Fenris needs Hawke, Alyn.” 

She was still, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. Probably for the best. When she spoke, she sounded nearly lucid. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Go to sleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” 

His heart warmed, and despite the massive headache he knew she’d wake up with, he intended to have a similar conversation in the morning. “I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever and ever.” She yawned, nuzzling impossibly closer. “Longer than that.”

He chuckled, tugging the blankets around them. “As you wish.”

 

 


End file.
